<*£? 
*i* 


presented  to  the 

LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  •  SAN  DIEGO 

by 
FRIENDS  OF  THE  LIBRARY 

MR.   JOHN  C.   ROSE 


donor 


of  &ara&  ©me 


A   MARSH  ISLAND.    A  Novel.    i6mo,  $1.25. 
A  COUNTRY  DOCTOR.    A  Novel.    i6mo,  $1.25. 

THE  MATE  OF  THE  DAYLIGHT,  AND 
FRIENDS  ASHORE.     i8mo,  gilt  top,  $1.25. 

COUNTR  Y  BY-WA  YS.    ,8mo,  gilt  top,  $1.25. 

DEEPHA  VEN.    ,8mo,  gilt  top,  $1.25. 

OLD  FRIENDS  AND  NEW.    i8mo,  gilt  top, 

*'.2S. 

These  four  volumes,  bound  uniformly  in  new  and  attract 
ive  style,  in  box,  $5.00. 

PLAY  DAYS.     Stories  for  Children.    Square  i6mo, 
*'-5°- 

HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  &  CO. 

Publishers, 

BOSTON. 


DEEP  HA  VEN. 


SARAH   O.  JEWETT. 


FIFTEENTH    EDITION. 


BOSTON: 

HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  COMPANY. 
New  York:   11  East  Seventeenth  Street. 

&  Cam6ri&0e. 
1886. 


COPYRIGHT,  1877. 

BY  JAMES  n.  OSGOOD  &  co. 


CAMBRIDGE  :    PRINTED  AT   THE   RIVERSIDE  PRESS. 


PKEFACE. 


ijHIS  book  is  not  wholly  new,  several  of 
the  chapters  having  already  been  pub 
lished  in  the  "Atlantic  Monthly." 
It  has  so  often  been  asked  if  Deephaven  may 
not  be  found  on  the  map  of  Rew  England  under 
another  name,  that,  to  prevent  any  misunderstand 
ing,  I  wish  to  say,  while  there  is  a  likeness  to  be 
traced,  few  of  the  sketches  are  drawn  from  that 
towp  itself,  and  the  characters  will  in  almost 
every  case  be  looked  for  there  in  vain. 

I  dedicate  this  story  of  out-of-door  life  and 
country  people  first  to  my  father  and  mother,  my 
two  best  friends,  and  also  to  all  my  other  friends, 
whose  names  I  say  to  myself  lovingly,  though  I 

do  not  write  there  here. 

S.  0.  J. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

KATE  LANCASTER'S  PLAN 9 

THE  BRANDON  HOUSE  AND  THE  LIGHTHOUSE     .  22 

MY  LADY  BRANDON 41 

DEEPHAVEN  SOCIETY 68 

THE  CAPTAINS 86 

DANNY 98 

CAPTAIN  SANDS 114 

THE  CIRCUS  AT  DENBY 124 

CuNNER-FlSHING 149 

MRS.  BONNY 188 

IN  SHADOW 204 

Miss  CHAUNCEY 224 

LAST  DAYS  IN  DEEPHAVEN     .                 ...  241 


DEEPHAVEN 


KATE   LANCASTER'S  PLAN. 

HAD  been  spending  the  winter  in  Bos 
ton,  and  Kate  Lancaster  and  I  had  been 
together  a  great  deal,  for  we  are  the  best 
of  friends.  It  happened  that  the  morning  when 
this  story  begins  I  had  waked  up  feeling  sorry, 
and  as  if  something  dreadful  were  going  to  hap 
pen.  There  did  not  seem  to  be  any  good  reason 
for  it,  so  I  undertook  to  discourage  myself  more 
by  thinking  that  it  would  soon  be  time  to  leave 
town,fand  how  much  I  should  miss  being  with 
Kate  and  my  other  friends.  My  mind  was  still 
disquieted  when  I  went  down  to  breakfast ;  but 
beside  my  plate  I  found,  with  a  hoped-for  letter 
from  my  father,  a  note  from  Kate.  To  this  day 
I  have  never  known  any  explanation  of  that  de 
pression  of  my  spirits,  and  I  hope  that  the  good 
luck  which  followed  will  help  some  reader  to  lose 
fear,  and  to  smile  at  such  shadows  if  any  chance 
to  come. 

1* 


10  DEE  PEA  YEN. 

Kate  had  evidently  written  to  me  in  an  excited 
state  of  mind,  for  her  note  was  not  so  trig-looking 
as  usual ;  but  this  is  what  she  said  :  — 

DEAR  HELEN,  —  I  have  a  plan  —  I  think  it  a  most  de 
lightful  plan  —  in  which  you  and  I  are  chief  characters. 
Promise  that  you  will  say  yes  ;  if  you  do  not  you  will  have 
to  remember  all  your  life  that  you  broke  a  girl's  heart. 
Come  round  early,  and  lunch  with  me  and  dine  with  me. 
I  'm  to  be  all  alone,  and  it 's  a  long  story  and  will  need  a 
great  deal  of  talking  over.  £ 

I  showed  this  note  to  my  aunt,  and  soon  went 
round,  very  much  interested.  My  latch  -  key 
opened  the  Lancasters'  door,  and  I  hurried  to  the 
parlor,  where  I  heard  my  friend  practising  with 
great  diligence.  I  went  up  to  her,  and  she  turned 
her  head  and  kissed  me  solemnly.  You  need  not 
smile  ;  we  are  not  sentimental  girls,  and  are  both 
much  averse  to  indiscriminate  kissing,  though 
I  have  not  the  adroit  habit  of  shying  in  which 
Kate  is  proficient.  It  would  sometimes  be  im 
polite  in  any  one  else,  but  she  shies  so  affection 
ately. 

"Won't  you  sit  down,  dearl"  she  said,  with 
great  ceremony,  and  went  on  with  her  playing, 
which  was  abominable  that  morning ;  her  fingers 
stepped  on  each  other,  and,  whatever  the  tune 


KATE  LANCASTER'S  PLAN.  11 

might  have  been  in  reality,  it  certainly  had  a 
most  remarkable  incoherence  as  I  heard  it  then. 
I  took  up  the  new  Littell  and  made  believe  read 
it,  and  finally  threw  it  at  Kate  ;  you  would  have 
thought  we  were  two  children. 

"  Have  you  heard  that  my  grand-aunt,  Miss 
Katharine  Brandon  of  Deephaven,  is  dead  1"  I 
knew  that  she  had  died  in  November,  at  least  six 
months  before. 

"  Don't  be  nonsensical,  Kate  !  "  said  I.  "  What 
is  it  you  are  going  to  tell  me  1 " 

"  My  grand-aunt  died  very  old,  and  was  the  last 
of  her  generation.  She  had  a  sister  and  three 
brothers,  one  of  whom  had  the  honor  of  being  my 
grandfather.  Mamma  is  sole  heir  to  the  family 
estates  in  Deephaven,  wharf-property  and  all,  and 
it  is  a  great  inconvenience  to  her.  The  house  is 
a  charming  old  house,  and  some  of  my  ancestors 
who  followed  the  sea  brought  home  the  greater 
part  of  its  furnishings.  Miss  Katharine  was  a 
person  who  ignored  all  frivolities,  and  her  house 
was  as  sedate  as  herself.  I  have  been  there  but 
little,  for  when  I  was  a  child  my  aunt  found  no 
pleasure  in  the  society  of  noisy  children  who  upset 
her  treasures,  and  when  I  was  older  she  did 
not  care  to  see  strangers,  and  after  I  left  school 


12  DEEPHAVEN. 

she  grew  more  and  more  feeble  ;  I  had  not  been 
there  for  two  years  when  she  died.  Mamma  went 
down  very  often.  The  town  is  a  quaint  old  place 
which  has  seen  better  days.  There  are  high  rocks 
at  the  shore,  and  there  is  a  beach,  and  there  are 
woods  inland,  and  hills,  and  there  is  the  sea.  It 
might  be  dull  in  Deephaven  for  two  young  ladies 
who  were  fond  of  gay  society  and  dependent  upon 
excitement,  I  suppose ;  but  for  two  little  girls  who 
•were  fond  of  each  other  and  could  play  in  the 
boats,  and  dig  and  build  houses  in  the  sea-sand, 
and  gather  shells,  and  carry  their  dolls  wherever 
they  went,  what  could  be  pleasanter  ] " 

"  Nothing,"  said  I,  promptly. 

Kate  had  told  this  a  little  at  a  time,  with  a  few 
appropriate  bars  of  music  between,  which  suddenly 
reminded  me  of  the  story  of  a  Chinese  procession 
which  I  had  read  in  one  of  Marryat's  novels  when 
I  was  a  child  :  "  A  thousand  white  elephants  richly 
caparisoned,  —  ti-tum  tilly-lily,"  and  so  on,  for  a 
page  or  two.  She  seemed  to  have  finished  her 
story  for  that  time,  and  while  it  was  dawning  upon 
me  what  she  meant,  she  sang  a  bit  from  one  of 
Jean  Ingelow's  verses  :  — 

"Will  ye  step  aboard,  my  dearest, 
For  the  high  seas  lie  before  us  ? " 


KATE  LANCASTER'S  PLAN.  13 

and  then  came  over  to  sit  beside  me  and  tell  the 
whole  story  in  a  more  sensible  fashion. 

"  You  know  that  my  father  has  been  meaning 
to  go  to  England  in  the  autumn  1  Yesterday 
he  told  us  that  he  is  to  leave  in  a  month  and  will 
be  away  all  summer,  and  mamma  is  going  with 
him.  Jack  and  Willy  are  to  join  a  party  of  their 
classmates  who  are  to  spend  nearly  the  whole  of 
the  long  vacation  at  Lake  Superior.  I  don't  care 
to  go  abroad  again  now,  and  I  did  not  like  any 
plan  that  was  proposed  to  me.  Aunt  Anna  was 
here  all  the  afternoon,  and  she  is  going  to  take  the 
house  at  Newport,  which  is  very  pleasant  and 
unexpected,  for  she  hates  housekeeping.  Mamma 
thought  of  course  that  I  would  go  with  her,  but  I 
did  not  wish  to  do  that,  and  it  would  only  result 
in  my  keeping  house  for  her  visitors,  whom  I  know 
very  little ;  and  she  will  be  much  more  free  and 
independent  by  herself.  Beside,  she  can  have  my 
room  if  I  am  not  there.  I  have  promised  to 
make  her  a  long  visit  in  Baltimore  next  winter 
instead.  I  told  mamma  that  I  should  like  to  stay 
here  and  go  away  when  I  choose.  There  are  ever 
so  many  visits  which  I  have  promised  ;  I  could 
stay  with  you  and  your  Aunt  Mary  at  Lenox  if  she 
goes  there,  for  a  while,  and  I  have  always  wished 


14  DEEPUA  YEN. 

to  spend  a  summer  in  town  ;  but  mamma  did  not 
encourage  that  at  all.  In  the  evening  papa  gave 
her  a  letter  which  had  come  from  Mr.  Dockum, 
the  man  who  takes  care  of  Aunt  Katharine's  place, 
and  the  most  charming  idea  came  into  my  head, 
and  I  said  I  meant  to  spend  my  summer  in  Deep- 
haven. 

"  At  first  they  laughed  at  me,  and  then  they  said 
I  might  go  if  1  chose,  and  at  last  they  thought 
nothing  could  be  pleasanter,  and  mamma  wishes 
she  were  going  herself.  I  asked  if  she  did  not 
think  you  would  be  the  best  person  to  keep  me 
company,  and  she  does,  and  papa  announced  that 
he  was  just  going  to  suggest  my  asking  you.  I 
am  to  take  Ann  and  Maggie,  who  will  be  overjoyed, 
for  they  came  from  that  part  of  the  country,  and 
the  other  servants  are  to  go  with  Aunt  Anna,  and 
old  Nora  will  come  to  take  care  of  this  house,  as 
she  always  does.  Perhaps  you  and  I  will  come 
up  to  town  once  in  a  while  for  a  few  days.  We 
shall  have  such  jolly  housekeeping.  Mamma  and 
I  sat  up  very  late  last  night,  and  everything  is 
planned.  Mr.  Dockum's  house  is  very  near  Aunt 
Katharine's,  so  we  shall  not  be  lonely ;  though  I 
know  you  're  no  more  afraid  of  that  than  I.  0 
Helen,  won't  you  go  ? " 


KATE  LANCASTER'S  PLAN.  15 

Do  you  think  it  took  me  long  to  decide  7 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lancaster  sailed  the  10th  of  June, 
and  my  Aunt  Mary  went  to  spend  her  summer 
among  the  Berkshire  Hills,  so  I  was  at  the  Lan- 
casters'  ready  to  welcome  Kate  when  she  came 
home,  after  having  said  good  by  to  her  father  and 
mother.  We  meant  to  go  to  Deephaven  in  a  week, 
but  were  obliged  to  stay  in  town  longer.  Boston 
was  nearly  deserted  of  our  friends  at  the  last,  and 
we  used  to  take  quiet  walks  in  the  cool  of  the 
evening  after  dinner,  up  and  down  the  street,  or 
sit  on  the  front  steps  in  company  with  the  servants 
left  in  charge  of  the  other  houses,  who  also  some 
times  walked  up  and  down  and  looked  at  us  won- 
deringly.  We  had  much  shopping  to  do  in  the 
daytime,  for  there  was  a  probability  of  our  spend 
ing  many  days  in  doors,  and  as  we  were  not  to  be 
near  arfy  large  town,  and  did  not  mean  to  come  to 
Boston  for  weeks  at  least,  there  was  a  great  deal 
to  be  remembered  and  arranged.  We  enjoyed 
making  our  plans,  and  deciding  what  we  should 
want,  and  going  to  the  shops  together.  I  think 
we  felt  most  important  the  day  we  conferred  with 
Ann  and  made  out  a  list  of  the  provisions  which 
must  be  ordered.  This  was  being  housekeepers  in 
earnest.  Mr.  Dockum  happened  to  come  to  town, 


16  DEEPHAVEN. 

and  we  sent  Ann  and  Maggie,  with  most  of  our 
boxes,  to  Deephaven  in  his  company  a  day  or  two 
before  we  were  ready  to  go  ourselves,  and  when 
we  reached  there  the  house  was  opened  and  in 
order  for  us. 

On  our  journey  to  Deephaven  we  left  the  railway 
twelve  miles  from  that  place,  and  took  passage 
in  a  stage-coach.  There  was  only  one  passenger 
beside  ourselves.  She  was  a  very  large,  thin, 
weather-beaten  woman,  and  looked  so  tired  and 
lonesome  and  good-natured,  that  I  could  not  help 
saying  it  was  very  dusty ;  and  she  was  apparently 
delighted  to  answer  that  she  should  think  every 
body  was  sweeping,  and  she  always  felt,  after  being 
in  the  cars  a  while,  as  if  she  had  been  taken  all  to 
pieces  and  left  in  the  different  places.  And  this 
was  the  beginning  of  our  friendship  with  Mrs. 
Kew. 

After  this  conversation  we  looked  industriously 
out  of  the  window  into  the  pastures  and  pine- 
woods.  I  had  given  up  my  seat  to  her,  for  I  do 
not  mind  riding  backward  in  the  least,  and  you 
would  have  thought  I  had  done  her  the  greatest 
favor  of  her  life.  I  think  she  was  the  most  grate 
ful  of  women,  and  I  was  often  reminded  of  a 
remark  one  of  my  friends  once  made  about  some 


KATE  LANCASTER'S  PLAN.  17 

one  :  "  If  you  give  Bessie  a  half-sheet  of  letter- 
paper,  she  behaves  to  you  as  if  it  were  the  most, 
exquisite  of  presents  ! "  Kate  and  I  had  some 
fruit  left  in  our  lunch-basket,  and  divided  it  with 
Mrs.  Kew,  but  after  the  first  mouthful  we  looked 
at  each  other  in  dismay.  "  Lemons  with  oranges' 
clothes  on,  are  n't  they  1 "  said  she,  as  Kate  threw 
hers  out  of  the  window,  and  mine  went  after  it  for 
company ;  and  after  this  we  began  to  be  very 
friendly  indeed.  We  both  liked  the  odd  woman, 
there  was  something  so  straightforward  and  kindly 
about  her. 

"  Are  you  going  to  Deephaven,  dear  ] "  she  asked 
me,  and  then  :  "I  wonder  if  you  are  going  to  stay 
long  ?  All  summer  ]  Well,  that 's  clever  !  I  do 
hope  you  will  come  out  to  the  Light  to  see  me ; 
young  folks  'most  always  like  my  place.  Most 
likely  your  friends  will  fetch  you." 

"  Do  you  know  the  Brandon  house  1 "  asked 
Kate. 

"Well  as  I  do  the  meeting-house.  There! 
I  wonder  I  did  n't  know  from  the  beginning,  but  I 
have  been  a  trying  all  the  way  to  settle  it  who 
you  could  be.  I  've  been  up  country  some  weeks, 
stopping  with  my  mother,  and  she  seemed  so  set 
to  have  me  stay  till  strawberry-time,  and  would 


18  DEEPEAVEN. 

hardly  let  me  come  now.  You  see  she 's  getting 
to  be  old ;  why,  every  time  I  've  come  away  for 
fifteen  years  she  's  said  it  was  the  last  time  I  'd 
ever  see  her,  but  she 's  a  dreadful  smart  woman  of 
her  age.  '  He '  wrote  me  some  o'  Mrs.  Lancaster's 
folks  were  going  to  take  the  Brandon  house  this 
summer ;  and  so  you  are  the  ones  1  It 's  a  sightly 
old  place;  I  used  to  go  and  see  Miss  Katharine. 
She  must  have  left  a  power  of  china-ware.  She 
set  a  great  deal  by  the  house,  and  she  kept  every 
thing  just  as  it  used  to  be  in  her  mother's  day." 

"  Then  you  live  in  Deephaven  too  1 "  asked 
Kate. 

"  I  've  been  here  the  better  part  of  my  life.  I 
was  raised  up  among  the  hills  in  Vermont,  and 
I  shall  always  be  a  real  up-country  woman  if  I  live 
here  a  hundred  years.  The  sea  doesn't  come 
natural  to  me,  it  kind  of  worries  me,  though  you 
won't  find  a  happier  woman  than  I  be,  'long  shore. 
When  I  was  first  married  '  he '  had  a  schooner  and 
went  to  the  banks,  and  once  he  was  off  on  a 
whaling  voyage,  and  I  hope  I  may  never  come  to 
so  long  a  three  years  as  those  were  again,  though 
I  was  up  to  mother's.  Before  I  was  married  he 
had  been  'most  everywhere.  When  he  came  home 
that  time  from  whaling,  he  found  I  'd  taken  it  so 


KATE  LANCASTER'S  PLAN.  19 

to  heart  that  he  said  he  'd  never  go  off  again,  and 
then  he  got  the  chance  to  keep  Deephaven  Light, 
and  we  've  lived  there  seventeen  years  come  Jan 
uary.  There  is  n't  great  pay,  but  then  nobody 
tries  to  get  it  away  from  us,  and  we  've  got  so 's 
to  be  contented,  if  it  is  lonesome  in  winter." 

"  Do  you  really  live  in  the  lighthouse  ]  I  re 
member  how  I  used  to  beg  to  be  taken  out  there 
when  I  was  a  child,  and  how  I  used  to  watch  for 
the  light  at  night,"  said  Kate,  enthusiastically. 

So  began  a  friendship  which  we  both  still 
treasure,  for  knowing  Mrs.  Kew  was  one  of  the 
plcasantest  things  which  happened  to  us  in  that 
delightful  summer,  and  she  used  to  do  so  much 
for  our  pleasure,  and  was  so  good  to  us.  When 
we  went  out  to  the  lighthouse  for  the  last  time  to 
say  gf>od  by,  we  were  very  sorry  girls  indeed.  We 
had  no  idea  until  then  how  much  she  cared  for  us, 
and  her  affection  touched  us  very  much.  She 
told  us  that  she  loved  us  as  if  we  belonged  to  her, 
and  begged  iis  not  to  forget  her,  —  as  if  we  ever 
could  !  —  and  to  remember  that  there  was  always 
a  home  and  a  warm  heart  for  us  if  she  were  alive. 
Kate  and  I  have  often  agreed  that  few  of  our 
acquaintances  are  half  so  entertaining.  Her  com 
parisons  were  most  striking  and  amusing,  and  her 


20  DEEPHA  YEN. 

comments  upon  the  books  she  read  —  for  she  was 
a  great  reader  —  were  very  shrewd  and  clever, 
and  always  to  the  point.  She  was  never  out  of 
temper,  even  when  the  barrels  of  oil  were  being 
rolled  across  her  kitchen  floor.  And  she  was  such 
a  wise  woman  !  This  stage-ride,  which  we  expected 
to  find  tiresome,  we  enjoyed  very  much,  and  we 
were  glad  to  think,  when  the  coach  stopped,  and 
"  he  "  came  to  meet  her  with  great  satisfaction, 
that  we  had  one  friend  in  Dccphaven  at  all  events. 

I  liked  the  honse  from  my  very  first  sight  of  it. 
It  stood  behind  a  row  of  poplars  which  were  as 
green  and  flourishing  as  the  poplars  which  stand 
in  stately  processions  in  the  fields  around  Quebec. 
It  was  an  imposing  great  white  house,  and  the 
lilacs  were  tall,  and  there  were  crowds  of  rose 
bushes  not  yet  out  of  bloom  ;  and  there  were  box 
borders,  and  there  were  great  elms  at  the  side  of 
the  house  and  down  the  road.  The  hall  door 
stood  wide  open,  and  my  hostess  turned  to  me  as 
we  went  in,  with  one  of  her  sweet,  sudden  smiles. 
"  Won't  we  have  a  good  time,  Nelly  ] "  said  she. 
And  I  thought  we  should. 

So  our  summer's  housekeeping  began  in  most 
pleasant  fashion.  It  was  just  at  sunset,  and  Ann's 
and  Maggie's  presence  made  the  house  seem  fa- 


KATE  LANCASTER'S  PLAN. 


21 


miliar  at  once.  Maggie  had  been  unpacking  for 
us,  and  there  was  a  delicious  supper  ready  for  the 
hungry  girls.  Later  in  the  evening  we  went  down 
to  the  shore,  which  was  not  very  far  away ;  the 
fresh  sea-air  was  welcome  after  the  dusty  day,  and 
it  seemed  so  quiet  and  pleasant  in  Deephaven. 


THE  BRANDON  HOUSE  AND  THE  LIGHT 
HOUSE. 


DO  not  know  that  the  Brandon  house  is 
really  very  remarkable,  but  I  never  have 
been  in  one  that  interested  me  in  the 
same  way.  Kate  used  to  recount  to  select  audi 
ences  at  school  some  of  her  experiences  with  her 
Aunt  Katharine,  and  it  was  popularly  believed 
that  she  once  carried  down  some  indestructible 
picture-books  when  they  were  first  in  fashion,  and 
the  old  lady  basted  them  for  her  to  hem  round 
the  edges  at  the  rate  of  two  a  day.  It  may  have 
been  fabulous.  It  was  impossible  to  imagine  any 
children  in  the  old  place  ;  everything  was  for  grown 
people  ;  even  the  stair-railing  was  too  high  to  slide 
down  on.  The  chairs  looked  as  if  they  had  been 
put,  at  the  furnishing  of  the  house,  in  their  places, 
and  there  they  meant  to  remain.  The  carpets  were 
particularly  interesting,  and  I  remember  Kate's 
pointing  out  to  me  one  day  a  great  square  figure 


THE  BRANDON  HOUSE.  23 

in  one,  and  telling  me  she  used  to  keep  house  there 
with  her  dolls  for  lack  of  a  better  play-house,  and 
if  one  of  them  chanced  to  fall  outside  the  boundary 
stripe,  it  was  immediately  put  to  bed  with  a  cold. 
It  is  a  house  with  great  possibilities ;  it  might 
easily  be  made  charming.  There  are  four  very 
large  rooms  on  the  lower  floor,  and  six  above,  a 
wide  hall  in  each  story,  and  a  fascinating  garret 
over  the  whole,  where  were  many  mysterious  old 
chests  and  boxes,  in  one  of  which  we  found  Kate's 
grandmother's  love-letters  ;  and  you  may  be  sure 
the  vista  of  rummages  which  Mr.  Lancaster  had 
laughed  about  was  explored  to  its  very  end.  The 
rooms  all  have  elaborate  cornices,  and  the  lower 
hall  is  very  fine,  with  an  archway  dividing  it,  and 
panellings  of  all  sorts,  and  a  great  door  at  each 
end,  .through  which  the  lilacs  in  front  and  the  old 
pensioner  plum-trees  in  the  garden  are  seen  ex 
changing  bows  and  gestures.  Coming  from  the 
Lancastcrs'  high  city  house,  it  did  not  seem  as  if 
we  had  to  go  up  stairs  at  all  there,  for  every  step 
of  the  stairway  is  so  broad  and  low,  and  you 
come  half-way  to  a  square  landing  with  an  old 
straight-backed  chair  in  each  farther  corner ;  and 
between  them  a  large,  round-topped  window,  with 
a  cushioned  seat,  looking  out  on  the  garden  and 


24  DEEPIIA  YEN. 

the  village,  the  hills  far  inland,  and  the  sunset 
beyond  all.  Then  you  turn  and  go  up  a  few  more 
steps  to  the  upper  hall,  where  we  used  to  stay  a 
great  deal.  There  were  more  old  chairs  and  a  pair 
of  remarkable  sofas,  on  which  we  used  to  deposit 
the  treasures  collected  in  our  wanderings.  The 
wide  window  which  looks  out  on  the  lilacs  and  the 
sea  was  a  favorite  seat  of  ours.  Facing  each  other 
on  either  side  of  it  are  two  old  secretaries,  and  one 
of  them  we  ascertained  to  be  the  hiding-place  of 
secret  drawers,  in  which  may  be  found  valuable 
records  deposited  by  ourselves  one  rainy  day  when 
we  first  explored  it.  We  wrote,  between  us,  a 
tragic  "journal"  on  some  yellow  old  letter-paper 
we  found  in  the  desk.  We  put  it  in  the  most  hid 
den  drawer  by  itself,  and  flatter  ourselves  that  it 
will  be  regarded  with  great  interest  some  time  or 
Qther.  Of  one  of  the  front  rooms,  "  the  best 
chamber,"  we  stood  rather  in  dread.  It  is  very 
remarkable  that  there  seem  to  be  no  ghost-stories 
connected  with  any  part  of  the  house,  particularly 
this.  We  are  neither  of  us  nervous ;  but  there 
is  certainly  something  dismal  about  the  room. 
The  huge  curtained  bed  and  immense  easy-chairs, 
windows,  and  everything  were  draped  in  some  old- 
fashioned  kind  of  white  cloth  which  always  seemed 


THE  BRANDON  HOUSE.  25 

to  be  waving  and  moving  about  of  itself.  The 
carpet  \vas  most  singularly  colored  with  dark 
reds  and  indescribable  grays  and  browns,  and 
the  pattern,  after  a  whole  summer's  study,  could 
never  be  followed  with  one's  eye.  The  paper  was 
captured  in  a  French  prize  somewhere  some  time 
in  the  last  century,  and  part  of  the  figure  was 
shaggy,  and  therein  little  spiders  found  habitation, 
and  went  visiting  their  acquaintances  across  the 
shiny  places.  The  color  was  an  unearthly  pink 
and  a  forbidding  maroon,  with  dim  white  spots, 
which  gave  it  the  appearance  of  having  moulded. 
It  made  you  low-spirited  to  look  long  in  the 
mirror;  and  the  great  lounge  one  could  not  have 
cheerful  associations  with,  after  hearing  that  Miss 
Brandon  herself  did  not  like  it,  having  seen  so 
many  of  her  relatives  lie  there  dead.  There  were 
fantastic  china  ornaments  from  Bible  subjects  on 
the  mantel,  and  the  only  picture  was  one  of  the 
Maid  of  Orleans  tied  with  an  unnecessarily  strong 
rope  to  a  very  stout  stake.  The  best  parlor  we 
also  rarely  used,  because  all  the  portraits  which 
hung  there  had  for  some  unaccountable  reason 
taken  a  violent  dislike  to  us,  and  followed  us  sus 
piciously  with  their  eyes.  The  furniture  was 
stately  and  very  uncomfortable,  and  there  was 
2 


26  DEEPHA  VEN. 

something  about  the  room  which  suggested  an  in 
visible  funeral. 

There  is  not  very  much  to  say  about  the  dining- 
room.  It  was  not  specially  interesting,  though 
the  sea  was  in  sight  from  one  of  the  windows. 
There  were  some  old  Dutch  pictures  on  the  wall, 
so  dark  that  one  could  scarcely  make  out  what 
they  were  meant  to  represent,  and  one  or  two 
engravings.  There  was  a  huge  sideboard,  for 
which  Kate  had  brought  down  from  Boston  Miss 
Brandon's  own  silver  which  had  stood  there  for  so 
many  years,  and  looked  so  much  more  at  home 
and  in  place  than  any  other  possibly  could  have 
looked,  and  Kate  also  found  in  the  closet  the  three 
great  decanters  with  silver  labels  chained  round 
their  necks,  which  had  always  been  the  compan 
ions  of  the  tea-service  in  her  aunt's  lifetime. 
From  the  little  closets  in  the  sideboard  there 
came  a  most  significant  odor  of  cake  and  wine 
whenever  one  opened  the  doors.  We  used  Miss 
Brandon's  beautiful  old  blue  India  china  which 
she  had  given  to  Kate,  and  which  had  been  care 
fully  packed  all  winter.  Kate  sat  at  the  head  and 
I  at  the  foot  of  the  round  table,  and  I  must  con 
fess  that  we  were  apt  to  have  either  a  feast  or  a 
famine,  for  at  first  we  often  forgot  to  provide  our 


THE  BRANDON  HOUSE.  27 

dinners.  If  this  were  the  case  Maggie  was  sure  to 
serve  us  with  most  derisive  elegance,  and  make  us 
wait  for  as  much  ceremony  as  she  thought  neces 
sary  for  one  of  Mrs.  Lancaster's  dinner-parties. 

The  west  parlor  was  our  favorite  room  down 
stairs.  It  had  a  great  fireplace  framed  in  blue 
and  white  Dutch  tiles  which  ingeniously  and  in 
structively  represented  the  careers  of  the  good  and 
the  had  man  ;  the  starting-place  of  each  being  a 
very  singular  cradle  in  the  centre  at  the  top.  The 
last  two  of  the  series  are  very  high  art :  a  great 
coffin  stands  in  the  foreground  of  each,  and  the 
virtuous  man  is  being  led  off  by  two  disagreeable- 
looking  angels,  while  the  wicked  one  is  hastening 
from  an  indescribable  but  unpleasant  assemblage 
of  claws  and  horns  and  eyes  which  is  rapidly 
advancing  from  the  distance,  open-mouthed,  and 
bringing  a  chain  with  it. 

There  was  a  large  cabinet  holding  all  the  small 
curiosities  ano.  knick-knacks  there  seemed  to  be  no 
other  place  for,  —  odd  china  figures  and  cups  and 
vases,  unaccountable  Chinese  carvings  and  ex 
quisite  corals  and  sea-shells,  minerals  and  Swiss 
wood-work,  and  articles  of  vertu  from  the  South 
Seas.  Underneath  were  stored  boxes  of  letters 
and  old  magazines ;  for  this  was  one  of  the  houses 


28  DEEPHA  YEN. 

where  nothing  seems  to  have  been  thrown  away. 
In  one  parting  we  found  a  parcel  of  old  manuscript 
sermons,  the  existence  of  which  was  a  mystery, 
until  Kate  remembered  there  had  been  a  gifted 
son  of  the  house  who  entered  the  ministry  and 
soon  died.  The  windows  had  each  a  pane  of 
stained  glass,  and  on  the  wide  sills  we  used  to  put 
our  immense  bouquets  of  field-flowers.  There  was 
one  place  which  I  liked  and  sat  in  more  than  any 
other.  The  chimney  filled  nearly  the  whole  side 
of  the  room,  all  but  this  little  corner,  where  there 
was  just  room  for  a  very  comfortable  high-backed 
cushioned  chair,  and  a  narrow  window  where  I 
always  had  a  bunch  of  fresh  green  ferns  in  a  tall 
champagne-glass.  I  used  to  write  there  often,  and 
always  sat  there  when  Kate  sang  and  played.  She 
sent  for  a  tuner,  and  used  to  successfully  coax  the 
long-imprisoned  music  from  the  antiquated  piano, 
and  sing  for  her  visitors  by  the  hour.  She  almost 
always  sang  her  oldest  songs,  for  they  seemed  most 
in  keeping  with  everything  about  us.  I  xised  to 
fancy  that  the  portraits  liked  our  being  there. 
There  was  one  young  girl  who  seemed  solitary 
and  forlorn  among  the  rest  in  the  room,  who  were 
all  middle-aged.  For  their  part  they  looked  amia 
ble,  but  rather  unhappy,  as  if  she  had  come  in 


THE  BRANDON  HOUSE.  29 

and  interrupted  their  conversation.  We  both  grew 
very  fond  of  her,  and  it  seemed,  when  we  went  in 
the  last  morning  on  purpose  to  take  leave  of  her, 
as  if  she  looked  at  us  imploringly.  She  was  soon 
afterward  boxed  up,  and  now  enjoys  society  after 
her  own  heart  in  Kate's  room  in  Boston. 

There  was  the  largest  sofa  I  ever  saw  opposite 
the  fireplace  ;  it  must  have  been  brought  in  in 
pieces,  and  built  in  the  room.  It  was  broad 
enough  for  Kate  and  me  to  lie  on  together,  and 
very  high  and  square  ;  but  there  was  a  pile  of  soft 
cushions  at  one  end.  We  used  to  enjoy  it  greatly 
in  September,  when  the  evenings  were  long  and 
cool,  and  we  had  many  caudles,  and  a  fire  —  and 
crickets  too  —  on  the  hearth,  and  the  dear  dog 
lying  on  the  rug.  I  remember  one  rainy  night, 
just  before  Miss  Tennant  and  Kitty  Bruce  went 
away  ;  we  had  a  real  drift-wood  fire,  and  blew  out 
the  lights  and  told  stories.  Miss  Margaret  knows 
so  many  and  tells  them  so  well.  Kate  and  I  were 
unusually  entertaining,  for  we  became  familiar 
with  the  family  record  of  the  town,  and  could  re 
count  marvellous  adventures  by  land  and  sea,  and 
ghost-stories  by  the  dozen.  We  had  never  either 
of  us  been  in  a  society  consisting  of  so  many  trav 
elled  people  !  Hardly  a  man  but  had  been  the 


30  DEEPHA  YEN. 

most  of  his  life  at  sea.  Speaking  of  ghost-stories, 
I  must  tell  you  that  once  in  the  summer  two  Cam 
bridge  girls  who  were  spending  a  week  with  us  un 
wisely  enticed  us  into  giving  some  thrilling  recitals, 
which  nearly  frightened  them  out  of  their  wits, 
and  Kate  and  I  were  finally  in  terror  ourselves. 
We  had  all  been  on  the  sofa  in  the  dark,  singing 
and  talking,  and  were  waiting  in  great  suspense 
after  I  had  finished  one  of  such  particular  horror 
that  I  declared  it  should  be  the  last,  when  we 
heard  footsteps  on  the  hall  stairs.  There  were 
lights  in  the  dining-room  which  shone  faintly 
through  the  half  closed  door,  and  we  saw  some 
thing  white  and  shapeless  come  slowly  down,  and 
clutched  each  other's  gowns  in  agony.  It  was  only 
Kate's  dog,  who  came  in  and  laid  his  head  in  her 
lap  and  slept  peacefully.  We  thought  we  could 
not  sleep  a  wink  after  this,  and  I  bravely  went 
alone  out  to  the  light  to  see  my  watch,  and,  find 
ing  it  was  past  twelve,  we  concluded  to  sit  up  all 
night  and  to  go  down  to  the  shore  at  sunrise,  it 
would  be  so  much  easier  than  getting  up  early 
some  morning.  We  had  been  out  rowing  and  had 
taken  a  long  walk  the  day  before,  and  were  obliged 
to  dance  and  make  other  slight  exertions  to  keep 
ourselves  awake  at  one  time.  We  lunched  at  two, 


THE  BRANDON  HOUSE.  31 

and  I  never  shall  forget  the  sunrise  that  morning ; 
but  we  were  singularly  quiet  and  abstracted  that 
day,  and  indeed  for  several  days  after  Deephaven 
was  "  a  land  in  which  it  seemed  always  afternoon," 
we  breakfasted  so  late. 

As  Mrs.  Kew  had  said,  there  was  "  a  power  of 
china."  Kate  and  I  were  convinced  that  the 
lives  of  her  grandmothers  must  have  been  spent 
in  giving  tea-parties.  We  counted  ten  sets  of 
cups,  beside  quantities  of  stray  ones ;  and  some 
member  of  the  family  had  evidently  devoted  her 
time  to  making  a  collection  of  pitchers. 

There  was  an  escritoire  in  Miss  Brandon's  own 
room,  which  we  looked  over  one  day.  There  was 
a  little  package  of  letters ;  ship  letters  mostly, 
tied  with  a  very  pale  and  tired-looking  blue  rib 
bon.  They  were  in  a  drawer  with  a  locket  hold 
ing  a  faded  miniature  on  ivory  and  a  lock  of  brown 
hair,  and  there  were  also  some  dry  twigs  and  bits 
of  leaf  which  had  long  ago  been  bright  wild- 
roses,  such  as  still  bloom  among  the  Deephaven 
rocks.  Kate  said  that  she  had  often  heard  her 
mother  wonder  why  her  aunt  never  had  cared  to 
marry,  for  she  had  chances  enough  doubtless,  and 
had  been  rich  and  handsome  and  finely  educated. 
So  there  was  a  sailor  lover  after  all,  and  perhaps 


32  DEEPHA  YEN. 

he  had  been  lost  at  sea  and  she  faithfully  kept  the 
secret,  never  mourning  outwardly.  "  And  I  always 
thought  her  the  most  matter-of-fact  old  lady,"  said 
Kate  ;  "  yet  here  's  her  romance,  after  all."  We 
put  the  letters  outside  on  a  chair  to  read,  but 
afterwards  carefully  replaced  them,  without  unty 
ing  them.  I  'm  glad  we  did.  There  were  other 
letters  which  we  did  read,  and  which  interested  us 
very  much,  —  letters  from  her  girl  friends  written 
in  the  boarding-school  vacations,  and  just  after 
she  finished  school.  Those  in  one  of  the  smaller 
packages  were  charming ;  it  must  have  been  such 
a  bright,  nice  girl  who  wrote  them !  They  were 
very  few,  and  were  tied  with  black  ribbon,  and 
marked  on  the  outside  in  girlish  writing :  "  My 
dearest  friend,  Dolly  McAllister,  died  September 
3,  1809,  aged  eighteen."  The  ribbon  had  evi 
dently  been  untied  and  the  letters  read  many 
times.  One  began  :  "  My  dear,  delightful  Kitten  : 
I  am  quite  overjoyed  to  find  my  father  has  busi 
ness  which  will  force  him  to  go  to  Deephaven  next 
week,  and  he  kindly  says  if  there  be  no  more  rain 
I  may  ride  with  him  to  see  yoxi.  I  will  surely 
come,  for  if  there  is  danger  of  spattering  my  gown, 
and  he  bids  me  stay  at  home,  I  shall  go  galloping 
after  him  and  overtake  him  when  it  is  too  late  to 


THE  BRANDON  HOUSE.  33 

send  me  back.  I  have  so  much  to  tell  you."  I 
wish  I  knew  more  about  the  visit.  Poor  Miss 
Katharine  !  it  made  us  sad  to  look  over  these 
treasures  of  her  girlhood.  There  were  her  com 
positions  and  exercise- books ;  some  samplers  and 
queer  little  keepsakes ;  withered  flowers  and  some 
pebbles  and  other  things  of  like  value,  with  which 
there  was  probably  some  pleasant  association. 
"  Only  think  of  her  keeping  them  all  her  days," 
said  I  to  Kate.  "I  am  continually  throwing  some 
relic  of  the  kind  away,  because  I  forget  why  I 
have  it!" 

There  was  a  box  in  the  lower  part  which  Kate 
was  glad  to  find,  for  she  had  heard  her  mother 
wonder  if  some  such  things  were  not  in  existence. 
It  held  a  crucifix  and  a  mass-book  and  some  rosaries, 
and  Kate  told  me  Miss  Katharine's  youngest  and 
favorite  brother  had  become  a  Roman  Catholic 
while  studying  in  Europe.  It  was  a  dreadful 
blow  to  the  family ;  for  in  those  days  there  could 
have  been  few  deeper  disgraces  to  the  Brandon 
family  than  to  have  one  of  its  sons  go  over  to 
popery.  Only  Miss  Katharine  treated  him  with 
kindness,  and  after  a  time  he  disappeared  without 
telling  even  her  where  he  was  going,  and  was  only 
heard  from  indirectly  once  or  twice  afterward.  It 
2*  c 


34  DEEPEAVEN. 

was  a  great  grief  to  her.  "  And  mamma  knows," 
said  Kate,  "that  she  always  had  a  lingering  hope 
of  his  return,  for  one  of  the  last  times  she  saw 
Aunt  Katharine  before  she  was  ill  she  spoke  of 
soon  going  to  be  with  all  the  rest,  and  said, 
'  Though  your  Uncle  Henry,  dear,'  —  and  stopped 
and  smiled  sadly  ;  '  you  '11  think  me  a  very  foolish 
old  woman,  but  I  never  quite  gave  up  thinking  he 
might  come  home.' " 

Mrs.  Kew  did  the  honors  of  the  lighthouse 
thoroughly  on  our  first  visit ;  but  I  think  we 
rarely  went  to  see  her  that  we  did  not  make  some 
entertaining  discovery.  Mr.  Kew's  nephew,  a 
guileless  youth  of  forty,  lived  with  them,  and  the 
two  men  were  of  a  mechanical  turn  and  had  in 
vented  numerous  aids  to  housekeeping,  —  appen 
dages  to  the  stove,  and  fixtures  on  the  walls  for 
everything  that  could  be  hung  up ;  catches  in  the 
floor  to  hold  the  doors  open,  and  ingenious  appa 
ratus  to  close  them  ;  but,  above  all,  a  system  of 
barring  and  bolting  for  the  wide  "  fore  door," 
which  would  have  disconcerted  an  energetic  bat 
tering-ram.  After  all  this  work  being  expended, 
Mrs.  Kew  informed  us  that  it  was  usually  wide 
open  all  night  in  summer  weather.  On  the  back 


THE  BRANDON  HOUSE.  35 

of  this  door  I  discovered  one  day  a  row  of  marks, 
and  asked  their  significance.  It  seemed  that  Mrs. 
Kew  had  attempted  one  summer  to  keep  count  of 
the  number  of  people  who  inquired  about  the  dep 
redations  of  the  neighbors'  chickens.  Mrs.  Kew's 
bedroom  was  partly  devoted  to  the  fine  arts. 
There  was  a  large  collection  of  likenesses  of  her 
relatives  and  friends  on  the  wall,  which  was  inter 
esting  in  the  extreme.  Mrs.  Kew  was  always 
much  pleased  to  tell  their  names,  and  her  remarks 
about  any  feature  not  exactly  perfect  were  very 
searching  and  critical.  "  That 's  my  oldest  broth 
er's  wife,  Clorinthy  Adams  that  was.  She  's  well 
featured,  if  it  were  not  for  her  nose,  and  that 
looks  as  if  it  had  been  thrown  at  her,  and  she 
was  n't  particular  about  having  it  on  firm,  in 
hopes  of  getting  a  better  one.  She  sets  by  her 
looks,  Enough." 

There  were  often  sailing-parties  that  came  there 
from  up  and  down  the  coast.  One  day  Kate  and  I 
were  spending  the  afternoon  at  the  Light ;  we  had 
been  fishing,  and  were  sitting  in  the  doorway  lis 
tening  to  a  reminiscence  of  the  winter  Mrs.  Kew 
kept  school  at  the  Four  Corners ;  saw  a  boatful 
coming,  and  all  lost  our  tempers.  Mrs.  Kew  had 
a  lame  ankle,  and  Kate  offered  to  go  up  with  the 


36  DEEPHA  YEN. 

visitors.  There  were  some  girls  and  young  men 
who  stood  on  the  rocks  awhile,  and  then  asked 
us,  with  much  better  manners  than  the  people 
who  usually  came,  if  they  could  see  the  light 
house,  and  Kate  led  the  way.  She  was  dressed 
that  day  in  a  costume  we  both  frequently  wore, 
of  gray  skirts  and  blue  sailor-jacket,  and  her 
boots  were  much  the  worse  for  wear.  The  cele 
brated  Lancaster  complexion  was  rather  darkened 
by  the  sun.  Mrs.  Kew  expressed  a  wish  to  know 
what  questions  they  would  ask  her,  and  I  followed 
after  a  few  minutes.  They  seemed  to  have  fin 
ished  asking  about  the  lantern,  and  to  have  be 
come  personal. 

"  Don't  you  get  tired  staying  here  1 " 

"  No,  indeed  !  "  said  Kate. 

"  Is  that  your  sister  down  stairs  1 " 

"  No,  I  have  no  sister." 

"  I  should  think  you  would  wish  she  was. 
Are  n't  you  ever  lonesome  ]  " 

"  Everybody  is,  sometimes,"  said  Kate. 

"  But  it 's  such  a  lonesome  place  !  "  said  one  of 
the  girls.  "  I  should  think  you  would  get  work 
away.  I  live  in  Boston.  Why,  it 's  so  awful 
quiet !  nothing  but  the  water,  and  the  wind,  when 
it  blows ;  and  I  think  either  of  them  is  worse 


THE  BRANDON  HOUSE.  37 

than  nothing.  And  only  this  little  bit  of  a  rocky 
place  !  I  should  want  to  go  to  walk." 

I  heard  Kate  pleasantly  refuse  the  offer  of  pay 
for  her  services,  and  then  they  began  to  come 
down  the  steep  stairs  laughing  and  chattering 
with  each  other.  Kate  stayed  behind  to  close 
the  doors  and  leave  everything  all  right,  and  the 
girl  who  had  talked  the  most  waited  too,  and 
when  they  were  on  the  stairs  just  above  me,  and 
the  others  out  of  hearing,  she  said,  "  You  're  real 
good  to  show  us  the  things.  I  guess  you  '11  think 
I  'in  silly,  but  I  do  like  you  ever  so  much  !  I 
wish  you  would  come  to  Boston.  I  'm  in  a  real 

nice  store,  —  H 's,  on  Winter  Street ;  and 

they  will  want  new  saleswomen  in  October.  Per 
haps  you  could  be  at  my  counter.  I  'd  teach  you, 
and  you  could  board  with  me.  I  've  got  a  real 
comfortable  room,  and  I  suppose  I  might  have 
more  things,  for  I  get  good  pay ;  but  1  like  to 
send  money  home  to  mother.  I  'm  at  my  aunt's 
now,  but  I  am  going  back  next  Monday,  and  if 
you  will  tell  me  what  your  name  is,  I  '11  find  out 
for  certain  about  the  place,  and  write  you.  My 
name  's  Mary  Wendell." 

I  knew  by  Kate's  voice  that  this  had  touched 
her.  "  You  are  very  kind  ;  thank  you  heartily," 


38  DEEPHA  YEN. 

said  she  ;  "  but  I  cannot  go  and  work  with  you. 
I  should  like  to  know  more  about  you.  I  live  in 
Boston  too  ;  my  friend  and  I  are  staying  over  in 
Deephaven  for  the  summer  only."  And  she  held 
out  her  hand  to  the  girl,  whose  face  had  changed 
from  its  first  expression  of  earnest  good-humor  to 
a  very  startled  one  ;  and  when  she  noticed  Kate's 
hand,  and  a  ring  of  hers,  which  had  been  turned 
round,  she  looked  really  frightened. 

"  0,  will  you  please  excuse  rne  1 "  said  she, 
blushing.  "  I  ought  to  have  known  better ;  but 
you  showed  us  round  so  willing,  and  I  never 
thought  of  your  not  living  here.  I  did  n't  mean 
to  be  rude." 

"  Of  course  you  did  not,  and  you  were  not.  I 
am  very  glad  you  said  it,  and  glad  you  like  me," 
said  Kate  ;  and  just  then  the  party  called  the  girl, 
and  she  hurried  away,  and  I  joined  Kate.  "  Then 
you  heard  it  all.  That  was  worth  having !  " 
said  she.  "She  was  such  an  honest  little  soul, 
and  I  mean  to  look  for  her  when  I  get  home." 

Sometimes  we  used  to  go  out  to  the  Light  early 
in  the  morning  with  the  fishermen  who  went  that 
way  to  the  fishing-grounds,  but  we  usually  made 
the  voyage  early  in  the  afternoon  if  it  were  not 
too  hot,  and  we  went  fishing  off  the  rocks  or  sat 


THE  BRANDON  HOUSE.  39 

in  the  house  with  Mrs.  Kew,  who  often  related 
some  of  her  Vermont  experiences,  or  Mr.  Kew 
would  tell  us  surprising  sea-stories  and  ghost-sto 
ries  like  a  story-book  sailor.  Then  we  would  have 
an  unreasonably  good  supper  and  afterward  climb 
the  ladder  to  the  lantern  to  see  the  lamps  lighted, 
and  sit  there  for  a  while  watching  the  ships  and 
the  sunset.  Almost  all  the  coasters  came  in  sight 
of  Deephaven,  and  the  sea  outside  the  light  was 
their  grand  highway.  Twice  from  the  lighthouse 
we  saw  a  yacht  squadron  like  a  flock  of  great 
white  birds.  As  for  the  sunsets,  it  used  to  seem 
often  as  if  we  were  near  the  heart  of  them,  for  the 
sea  all  around  us  caught  the  color  of  the  clouds, 
and  though  the  glory  was  wonderful,  I  remember 
best  one  still  evening  when  there  was  a  bank  of 
heavy  gray  clouds  in  the  west  shutting  down  like 
a  curtain,  and  the  sea  was  silver-colored.  You 
could  look  under  and  beyond  the  curtain  of  clouds 
into' the  palest,  clearest  yellow  sky.  There  was  a 
little  black  boat  in  the  distance  drifting  slowly, 
climbing  one  white  wave  after  another,  as  if  it 
were  -  bound  out  into  that  other  world  beyond. 
But  presently  the  sun  came  from  behind  the 
clouds,  and  the  dazzling  golden  light  changed  the 
look  of  everything,  and  it  was  the  time  then  to 


40  DEEPHA  VEN. 

say  one  thought  it  a  beautiful  sunset ;  while  be 
fore  one  could  only  keep  very  still,  and  watch  the 
boat,  and  wonder  if  heaven  would  not  be  somehow 
like  that  far,  faint  color,  which  was  neither  sea 
nor  sky. 

When  we  came  down  from  the  lighthouse  and 
it  grew  late,  we  would  beg  for  an  hour  or  two 
longer  on  the  water,  and  row  away  in  the  twilight 
far  out  from  land,  where,  with  our  faces  turned 
from  the  Light,  it  seemed  as  if  we  were  alone,  and 
the  sea  shoreless ;  and  as  the  darkness  closed 
round  us  softly,  we  watched  the  stars  come  out, 
and  were  always  glad  to  see  Kate's  star  and  my 
star,  which  we  had  chosen  when  we  were  children. 
I  used  long  ago  to  be  sure  of  one  thing,  —  that, 
however  far  away  heaven  might  be,  it  could  not 
be  out  of  sight  of  the  stars.  Sometimes  in  the  even 
ing  we  waited  out  at  sea  for  the  moonrise,  and 
then  we  would  take  the  oars  again  and  go  slowly 
in,  once  in  a  while  singing  or  talking,  but  ofteuest 
silent. 


MY   LADY    BRANDON  AND    THE   WIDOW 
JIM. 


HEN  it  was  known  that  we  had  arrived 
in  Deephaven,  the  people  who  had  known 
Miss  Brandon  so  well,  and  Mrs.  Lancaster 
also,  seemed  to  consider  themselves  Kate's  friends 
by  inheritance,  and  were  exceedingly  polite  to  us, 
in  either  calling  upon  us  or  sending  pleasant  mes 
sages.  Before  the  first  week  had  ended  we  had 
no  lack  of  society.  They  were  not  strangers  to 
Kate,  to  begin  with,  and  as  for  me,  I  think  it  is 
easy  for  me  to  be  contented,  and  to  feel  at  home 
anywhere.  I  have  the  good  fortune  and  the  mis- 
fortuneto  belong  to  the  navy, — that  is,  my  father 
does,  —  and  my  life  has  been  consequently  an  un 
settled  one,  except  during  the  years  of  my  school 
life,  when  my  friendship  with  Kate  began. 

I  think  I  should  be  happy  in  any  town  if  I 
were  living  there  with  Kate  Lancaster.  I  will 
not  praise  my  friend  as  I  can  praise  her,  or  say 


42  DEEPHA  YEN. 

half  the  things  I  might  say  honestly.  She  is  so 
fresh  and  good  and  true,  and  enjoys  life  so  heartily. 
She  is  so  childlike,  without  being  childish ;  and  I 
do  not  tell  you  that  she  is  faultless,  but  when  she 
makes  mistakes  she  is  sorrier  and  more  ready  to 
hopefully  try  again  than  any  girl  I  know.  Per 
haps  you  would  like  to  know  something  about  us, 
but  I  am  not  writing  Kate's  biography  and  my  own, 
only  telling  you  of  one  summer  which  we  spent 
together.  Sometimes  in  Deephaven  we  were  be 
tween  six  and  seven  years  old,  but  at  other  times 
•we  have  felt  irreparably  grown-up,  and  as  if  we 
carried  a  crushing  weight  of  care  and  duty.  In 
reality  we  are  both  twenty-four,  and  it  is  a  pleas 
ant  age,  though  I  think  next  year  is  sure  to  be 
pleasanter,  for  we  do  not  mind  growing  older, 
since  we  have  lost  nothing  that  we  mourn  about, 
and  are  gaining  so  much.  I  shall  be  glad  if  you 
learn  to  know  Kate  a  little  in  my  stories.  It  is 
not  that  I  am  fond  of  her  and  endow  her  with 
imagined  virtues  and  graces ;  no  one  can  fail  to 
see  how  unaffected  she  is,  or  not  notice  her 
thoughtfulncss  and  generosity  and  her  delightful 
fun,  which  never  has  a  trace  of  coarseness  or  silli 
ness.  It  was  very  pleasant  having  her  for  one's 
companion,  for  she  has  an  unusual  power  of  win- 


MY  LADY  BRANDON.  43 

ning  people's  confidence,  and  of  knowing  with 
surest  instinct  how  to  meet  them  on  their  own 
ground.  It  is  the  girl's  being  so  genuinely  sym 
pathetic  and  interested  which  makes  every  one 
ready  to  talk  to  her  and  be  friends  with  her ;  just 
as  the  sunshine  makes  it  easy  for  flowers  to  grow 
which  the  chilly  winds  hinder.  She  is  not  polite 
for  the  sake  of  seeming  polite,  but  polite  for  the 
sake  of  being  kind,  and  there  is  not  a  particle  of 
what  Hugh  Miller  justly  calls  the  insolence  of 
condescension  about  her ;  she  is  not  brilliantly 
talented,  yet  she  does  everything  in  a  charming 
fashion  of  her  own  ;  she  is  not  profoundly  learned, 
3'ct  she  knows  much  of  which  many  wise  people 
are  ignorant,  and  while  she  is  a  patient  scholar  in 
both  little  things  and  great,  she  is  no  less  a  teacher 
to  all  her  friends,  —  dear  Kate  Lancaster  ! 

We  knew  that  we  were  considered  Miss  Bran 
don's  representatives  in  Deephaven  society,  and 
this  was  no  slight  responsibility,  as  she  had  re 
ceived  much  honor  and  respect.  We  heard  again 
and  again  what  a  loss  she  had  been  to  the  town, 
and  we  tried  that  summer  to  do  nothing  to  lessen 
the  family  reputation,  and  to  give  pleasure  as  well 
as  take  it,  though  we  were  singularly  persistent  in 
our  pursuit  of  a  good  time.  I  grew  much  inter- 


44  DEEPHA  YEN. 

estcd  in  what  I  heard  of  Miss  Brandon,  and  it 
seems  to  me  that  it  is  a  great  privilege  to  have  an 
elderly  person  in  one's  neighborhood,  in  town  or 
country,  who  is  proud,  and  conservative,  and  who 
lives  in  stately  fashion  ;  who  is  intolerant  of  sham 
and  of  useless  novelties,  and  clings  to  the  old  ways 
of  living  and  behaving  as  if  it  were  part  of  her 
religion.  There  is  something  immensely  respect 
able  about  the  gentlewomen  of  the  old  school. 
They  ignore  all  bustle  and  flashiness,  and  the 
conceit  of  the  younger  people,  who  act  as  if  at  last 
it  had  been  time  for  them  to  appear  and  manage 
this  world  as  it  ought  to  have  been  managed 
before.  Their  position  in  modern  society  is  much 
like  that  of  the  King's  Chapel  in  its  busy  street 
in  Boston.  It  perhaps  might  not  have  been  easy 
to  approach  Miss  Brandon,  but  I  am  sure  that  if 
I  had  visited  in  Deephaven  during  her  lifetime  I 
should  have  been  very  proud  if  I  had  been  asked 
to  take  tea  at  her  house,  and  should  have  liked  to 
speak  afterward  of  my  acquaintance  with  her.  It 
would  have  been  impossible  not  to  pay  her  great 
deference ;  it  is  a  pleasure  to  think  that  she  must 
have  found  this  world  a  most  polite  world,  and 
have  had  the  highest  opinion  of  its  good  manners. 
Noblesse  oblige :  that  is  true  in  more  ways  than 
one ! 


MY  LADY  BRANDON.  45 

I  cannot  help  wondering  if  those  of  us  who  will 
be  left  by  and  by  to  represent  our  own  generation 
will  seem  to  have  such  superior  elegance  of  behav 
ior  ;  if  we  shall  receive  so  much  respect  and  be  so 
much  valued.  It  is  hard  to  imagine  it.  We  know 
that  the  world  gains  new  refinements  and  a  better 
culture ;  but  to  us  there  never  will  be  such  im 
posing  ladies  and  gentlemen  as  these  who  belong 
to  the  old  school. 

The  morning  after  we  reached  Deephaven  we 
were  busy  up  stairs,  and  there  was  a  determined 
blow  at  the  knocker  of  the  front  door.  I  went 
down  to  see  who  was  there,  and  had  the  pleasure 
of  receiving  our  first  caller.  She  was  a  prim  little 
old  woman  who  looked  pleased  and  expectant, 
who  wore  a  neat  cap  and  front,  and  whose  eyes 
were  as  bright  as  black  beads.  She  wore  no  bon 
net,  and  had  thrown  a  little  three-cornered  shawl, 
with  palm-leaf  figures,  over  her  shoulders ;  and  it 
was  evident  that  she  was  a  near  neighbor.  She 
was  very  short  and  straight  and  thin,  and  so  quick 
that  she  darted  like  a  pickerel  when  she  moved 
about.  It  occurred  to  me  at  once  that  she  was  a 
very  capable  person,  and  had  "  faculty,"  and,  dear 
me,  how  fast  she  talked  !  She  hesitated  a  moment 
when  she  saw  me,  and  dropped  a  fragment  of  a 


46  DEEPIIA  YEN. 

courtesy.  "Miss  Lan'k'ster  1 "  said  she,  doubt 
fully. 

"  No,"  said  I,  "  I  'm  Miss  Denis  :  Miss  Lancas 
ter  is  at  home,  though  :  come  in,  won't  you  ] " 

"  0  Mrs.  Patton ! "  said  Kate,  who  came  down 
just  then.  "  How  very  kind  of  you  to  come  over 
so  soon  !  I  should  have  gone  to  see  you  to-day. 
I  was  asking  Mrs.  Kew  last  night  if  you  were  here." 

"  Land  o'  compassion  ! "  said  Mrs.  Patton,  as  she 
shook  Kate's  hand  delightedly.  "  Where  'd  ye 
s'pose  I  'd  be,  dear  ]  I  ain't  like  to  move  away 
from  Deephaven  now,  after  I  've  held  by  the  place 
so  long,  I  've  got  as  many  roots  as  the  big  elluin. 
Well,  I  should  know  you  were  a  Brandon,  no 
matter  where  I  see  you.  You  've  got  a  real  Bran 
don  look  ;  tall  and  straight,  ain't  you  ]  It  's  four 
or  five  years  since  I  saw  you,  except  once  at  church, 
and  once  you  went  by,  down  to  the  shore,  I  sup 
pose.  It  was  a  windy  day  in  the  spring  of  the  year." 

"  I  remember  it  very  well,"  said  Kate.  "  Those 
were  both  visits  of  only  a  day  or  two,  and  I 
was  here  at  Aunt  Katharine's  funeral,  and  went 
away  that  same  evening.  Do  you  remember  once 
I  was  here  in  the  summer  for  a  longer  visit,  five  or 
six  years  ago,  and  I  helped  you  pick  currants  in 
the  garden  1  You  had  a  very  old  mug." 


MY  LADY  BRANDON.  47 

"  Now,  whoever  would  ha'  thought  o'  your  rec'- 
lecting  that?"  said  Mrs.  Patton.  "Yes.  I  had 
that  mug  because  it  was  handy  to  carry  about 
among  the  bushes,  and  then  I  'd  empt'  it  into  the 
basket  as  fast  as  I  got  it  full.  Your  aunt  always 
told  me  to  pick  all  I  wanted  ;  she  could  n't  use  'em, 
but  they  used  to  make  sights  o'  currant  wine  in 
old  times.  I  s'pose  that  mug  would  be  consider 
able  of  a  curiosity  to  anybody  that  was  n't  used 
to  seeing  it  round.  My  grand'ther  Joseph  Togger- 
son —  my  mother  was  a  Toggerson  —  picked  it  up 
on  the  long  sands  in  a  wad  of  sea-weed  :  strange  it 
was  n't  broke,  but  it 's  tough  ;  I  've  dropped  it  on 
the  floor,  many  's  the  time,  and  it  ain't  even  chipped. 
There's  some  Dutch  reading  on  it  and  it's  marked 
1732.  Now  I  should  n't  ha'  thought  you  'd  re 
membered  that  old  mug,  I  declare.  Your  aunt 
she  had  a  monstrous  sight  of  chiny.  She  's  told 
me  where  'most  all  of  it  come  from,  but  I  expect 
I  've  forgot.  My  memory  fails  me  a  good  deal  by 
spells.  If  you  had  n't  come  down  I  suppose  your 
mother  would  have  had  the  chiny  packed  up  this 
spring,  — what  she  did  n't  take  with  her  after  your 
aunt  died.  S'pose  she  has  n't  made  up  her  mind 
what  to  do  with  the  house  1 " 

"  No,"  said  Kate  ;  "  she  wishes  she  could  :  it  is  a 
great  puzzle  to  us." 


48  DEEPHA  YEN. 

"  I  hope  you  will  find  it  in  middling  order,"  said 
Mrs.  Patton,  humbly.  "  Me  and  Mis'  Dockum 
have  done  the  best  we  knew,  —  opened  the  win 
dows  and  let  in  the  air  and  tried  to  keep  it  from 
getting  damp.  I  fixed  all  the  woollens  with  fresh 
camphire  and  tobacco  the  last  o'  the  winter  ;  you 
have  to  be  dreadful  careful  in  one  o'  these  old 
houses,  'less  everything  gets  creaking  with  moths 
in  no  time.  Miss  Katharine,  how  she  did  hate 
the  sight  of  a  moth-miller  !  There  's  something 
I  '11  speak  about  before  I  forget  it  :  the  mice  have 
eat  the  backs  of  a  pile  o'  old  books  that  's  stored 
away  in  the  west  chamber  closet  next  to  Miss 
Katharine's  room,  and  I  set  a  trap  there,  but  it 
•was  older  'n  the  ten  commandments,  that  trap 
was,  and  the  spring 's  rusty.  I  guess  you  'd 
better  get  some  new  ones  and  set  round  in  differ 
ent  places,  'less  the  mice  '11  pester  you.  There 
ain't  been  no  chance  for  'em  to  get  much  of  a 
living  'long  through  the  winter,  but  they  '11  be 
sure  to  come  back  quick  as  they  find  there  's 
likely  to  be  good  board.  I  see  your  aunt's  cat 
setting  out  on  the  front  steps.  She  never  was  no 
great  of  a  mouser,  but  it  went  to  my  heart  to  see 
how  pleased  she  looks  !  Come  right  back,  did  n't 
she  ]  How  they  do  hold  to  their  old  haunts  !  " 


MY  LADY  BRANDON.  49 

"  Was  that  Miss  Brandon's  cat  ? "  I  asked,  with 
great  interest.  "  She  has  been  up  stairs  with  us, 
but  I  supposed  she  belonged  to  some  neighbor, 
and  had  strayed  in.  She  behaved  as  if  she  felt  at 
home,  poor  old  pussy  !  " 

"  We  must  keep  her  here,"  said  Kate. 

"  Mis'  Dockum  took  her  after  your  mother  went 
off,  and  Miss  Katharine's  maids,"  said  Mrs.  Patton ; 
"  but  she  told  me  that  it  was  a  long  spell  before 
she  seemed  to  feel  contented.  She  used  to  set  on 
the  steps  and  cry  by  the  hour  together,  and  try  to 
get  in,  to  first  one  door  and  then  another.  I  used 
to  think  how  bad  Miss  Katharine  would  feel ;  she  set 
a  great  deal  by  a  cat,  and  she  took  notice  of  this 
as  long  as  she  did  of  anything.  Her  mind  failed 
her,  you  know.  Great  loss  to  Deephaven,  she  was. 
Proud  woman,  and  some  folks  were  scared  of  her ; 
but  I  always  got  along  with  her,  and  I  would  n't 
ask  for  no  kinder  friend  nor  neighbor.  I  've  had 
my  troubles,  and  I  've  seen  the  day  I  was  suffer 
ing  poor,  and  I  could  n't  have  brought  myself  to 
ask  town  help  nohow,  but  I  wish  ye  'd  ha'  beared 
her  scold  me  when  she  found  it  out ;  and  she  come 
marching"  into  my  kitchen  one  morning,  like  a 
grenadier,  and  says  she,  '  Why  did  n't  you  send 
and  tell  me  how  sick  and  poor  you  are  1 '  says  she. 
3  D 


50  DEEPHA  YEN. 

And  she  said  she  'd  ha'  been  so  glad  to  help  me  all 
along,  but  she  thought  I  had  means,  —  everybody 
did ;  and  I  see  the  tears  in  her  eyes,  but  she  was 
scolding  me  and  speaking  as  if  she  was  dreadful 
mad.  She  made  me  comfortable,  and  she  sent 
over  one  o'  her  maids  to  see  to  me,  and  got  the 
doctor,  and  a  load  o'  stuff  come  up  from  the  store, 
so  I  did  n't  have  to  buy  anything  for  a  good  many 
weeks.  I  got  better  and  so  's  to  work,  but  she 
never  'd  let  me  say  nothing  about  it.  I  had  a 
good  deal  o'  trouble,  and  I  thought  I  'd  lost  my 
health,  but  I  had  n't,  and  that  was  thirty  or  forty 
years  ago.  There  never  was  nothing  going  on  at 
the  great  house  that  she  did  n't  have  me  over, 
sewing  or  cleaning  or  company ;  and  I  got  so  that 
I  knew  how  she  liked  to  have  things  done.  I  felt 
as  if  it  was  my  own  sister,  though  I  never  had  one, 
when  I  was  going  over  to  help  lay  her  out.  She 
used  to  talk  as  free  to  me  as  she  would  to  Miss 
Lorimer  or  Miss  Carew.  I  s'pose  ye  ain't  seen 
nothing  o'  them  yet  1  She  was  a  good  Christian 
woman,  Miss  Katharine  was.  "  The  memory  of 
the  just  is  blessed  "  ;  that 's  what  Mr.  Lorimer  said 
in  his  sermon  the  Sunday  after  she  died,  and  there 
wasn't  a  blood-relation  there  to  hear  it.  I  de 
clare  it  looked  pitiful  to  see  that  pew  empty  that 


MY  LADY  BRANDON.  51 

ought  to  ha'  been  the  mourners'  pew.  Your  mother, 
Mis'  Lancaster,  had  to  go  home  Saturday,  your 
father  was  going  away  sudden  to  Washington,  I  've 
understood,  and  she  come  back  again  the  first  of 
the  week.  There !  it  did  n't  make  no  sort  o' 
difference,  p'r'aps  nobody  thought  of  it  but  me. 
There  had  n't  been  anybody  in  the  pew  more  than 
a  couple  o'  times  since  she  used  to  sit  there  her 
self,  regular  as  Sunday  come."  And  Mrs.  Patton 
looked  for  a  minute  as  if  she  were  going  to  cry, 
but  she  changed  her  mind  upon  second  thought. 

"  Your  mother  gave  me  most  of  Miss  Katha 
rine's  clothes ;  this  cap  belonged  to  her,  that  I  've 
got  on  now ;  it 's  'most  wore  out,  but  it  does  for 
mornings." 

"  0,"  said  Kate,  "  I  have  two  new  ones  for  you 
in  one  of  my  trunks  !  Mamma  meant  to  choose 
them  herself,  but  she  had  not  time,  and  so  she 
told  me,  and  I  think  I  found  the  kind  she  thought 
you  would  like." 

"  Now  I  'm  sure  !  "  said  Mrs.  Patton,  "  if  that 
ain't  kind ;  you  don't  tell  me  that  Mis'  Lancaster 
thought  of  me  just  as  she  was  going  off!  I  shall 
set  everything  by  them  caps,  and  I  'm  much 
obliged  to  you  too,  Miss  Kate.  I  was  just  going 
to  speak  of  that  time  you  were  here  and  saw  the 


52  DEEP II A  YEN. 

mug ;  you  trimmed  a  cap  for  Miss  Katharine  to 
give  me,  real  Boston  st}7le.  I  guess  that  box  of 
cap-fixings  is  up  on  the  top  shelf  of  Miss  Katha 
rine's  closet  now,  to  the  left  hand,"  said  Mrs.  Pat- 
ton,  with  wistful  certainty.  "  She  used  to  make  her 
every-day  caps  herself,  and  she  had  some  beautiful 
materials  laid  away  that  she  never  used.  Some 
folks  has  laughed  at  me  for  being  so  particular 
'bout  wearing  caps  except  for  best,  but  I  don't 
know 's  it 's  presuming  beyond  my  station,  and 
somehow  I  feel  more  respect  for  myself  when  I 
have  a  good  cap  on.  I  can't  get  over  your  moth 
er's  rec'lecting  about  me  ;  and  she  sent  me  a  hand 
some  present  o'  money  this  spring  for  looking  after 
the  house.  I  never  should  have  asked  for  a  cent ; 
it 's  a  pleasure  to  me  to  keep  an  eye  on  it,  out 
o'  respect  to  your  aunt.  I  was  so  pleased  when 
I  heard  you  were  coming  long  o'  your  friend.  I 
like  to  see  the  old  place  open  ;  it  was  about  as  bad 
as  having  no  meeting.  I  miss  seeing  the  lights, 
and  your  aunt  was  a  great  hand  for  lighting  up 
bright  ;  the  big  hall  lantern  was  lit  every  night, 
and  she  put  it  out  when  she  went  up  stairs.  She 
liked  to  go  round  same  's  if  it  was  day.  You  see 
I  forget  all  the  time  she  was  sick,  and  go  back  to 
the  days  when  she  was  well  and  about  the  house. 


MY  LADY  BRANDON.  53 

When  her  mind  was  failing  her,  and  she  was  tip 
stairs  in  her  room,  her  eyesight  seemed  to  be  lost 
part  of  the  time,  and  sometimes  she  'd  tell  us  to 
get  the  lamp  and  a  couple  o'  candles  in  the  mid 
dle  o'  the  day,  and  then  she  'd  be  as  satisfied  ! 
But  she  used  to  take  a  notion  to  set  in  the 
dark,  some  nights,  and  think,  I  s'pose.  I  should 
have  forty  fits,  if  I  undertook  it.  That  was  a  good 
while  ago ;  and  do  you  rec'lect  how  she  used  to 
play  the  piano  ]  She  used  to  be  a  great  hand  to 
play  when  she  was  young." 

"  Indeed  I  remember  it,"  said  Kate,  who  told 
me  afterward  how  her  aunt  used  to  sit  at  the 
piano  in  the  twilight  and  play  to  herself.  "  She 
was  formerly  a  skilful  musician,"  said  my  friend, 
"  though  one  would  not  have  imagined  she  cared 
for  music.  When  I  was  a  child  she  used  to  play 
in  company  of  an  evening,  and  once  when  I  was 
here  one  of  her  old  friends  asked  for  a  tune,  and 
she  laughingly  said  that  her  day  was  over  and  her 
fingers  were  stiff;  though  T  believe  she  might  have 
played  as  well  as  ever  then,  if  she  had  cared  to 
try.  But  once  in  a  while  when  she  had  been  quiet 
all  day  and  rather  sad  —  I  am  ashamed  that  I  used 
to  think  she  was  cross  —  she  would  open  the  piano 
and  sit  there  until  late,  while  I  used  to  be  en- 


54  DEEP  HA  YEN. 

chanted  by  her  memories  of  dancing-tunes,  and 
old  psalms,  and  marches  and  songs.  There  was 
one  tune  which  I  am  sure  had  a  history  :  there 
was  a  sweet  wild  cadence  in  it,  and  she  would 
come  back  to  it  again  and  again,  always  going 
through  with  it  in  the  same  measured  way.  I 
have  remembered  so  many  things  about  my  aunt 
since  I  have  been  here,"  said  Kate,  "  which  I 
hardly  noticed  and  did  not  understand  when  they 
happened.  I  was  afraid  of  her  when  I  was  a  little 
girl,  but  I  think  if  I  had  grown  up  sooner,  I 
should  have  enjoyed  her  heartily.  It  never  used 
to  occur  to  me  that  she  had  a  spark  of  tenderness 
or  of  sentiment,  until  just  before  she  was  ill,  but  I 
have  been  growing  more  fond  of  her  ever  since. 
I  might  have  given  her  a  great  deal  moi'e  pleas 
ure.  It  was  not  long  after  I  was  through  school 
that  she  became  so  feeble,  and  of  course  she  liked 
best  having  mamma  come  to  see  her ;  one  of  us 
had  to  be  at  home.  I  have  thought  lately  how 
careful  one  ought  to  be,  to  be  kind  and  thoughtful 
to  one's  old  friends.  It  is  so  soon  too  late  to  be 
good  to  them,  and  then  one  is  always  so  sorry." 

I  must  tell  you  more  of  Mrs.  Patton  ;  of  course 
it  was  not  long  before  we  returned  her  call,  and 
we  were  much  entertained  ;  we  always  liked  to  see 


MY  LADY  BRAJVDON.  55 

our  friends  in  their  own  houses.  Her  house  was 
a  little  way  down  the  road,  unpainted  and  gam- 
brel-roofed,  but  so  low  that  the  old  lilac-bushes 
which  clustered  round  it  were  as  tall  as  the  eaves. 
The  Widow  Jim  (as  nearly  every  one  called  her  in 
distinction  to  the  widow  Jack  Patton,  who  was  a 
tailoress  and  lived  at  the  other  end  of  the  town) 
was  a  very  useful  person.  I  suppose  there  must 
be  her  counterpart  in  all  old  New  England  vil 
lages.  She  sewed,  and  she  made  elaborate  rugs, 
and  she  had  a  decided  talent  for  making  carpets, 
—  if  there  were  one  to  be  made,  which  must  have 
happened  seldom.  But  there  were  a  great  many 
to  be  turned  and  made  over  in  Deephaven,  and 
she  went  to  the  Carews'  and  Lorimers'  at  house- 
cleaning  time  or  in  seasons  of  great  festivity.  She 
had  no  equal  in  sickness,  and  knew  how  to  brew 
every  old-fashioned  dose  and  to  make  every  variety 
of  herb-tea,  and  when  her  nursing  was  put  to  an 
end  by  her  patient's  death,  she  was  commander- 
in-chief  at  the  funeral,  and  stood  near  the  door 
way  to  direct  the  mourning  friends  to  their  seats ; 
and  I  have  no  reason  to  doubt  that  she  sometimes 
even  had  the  immense  responsibility  of  making  out 
the  order  of  the  procession,  since  she  had  all  gen 
ealogy  and  relationship  at  her  tongue's  end.  It 


56  DEEPHA  YEN. 

was  an  awful  thing  in  Deephaven,  we  found,  if  the 
precedence  was  wrongly  assigned,  and  once  we 
chanced  to  hear  some  bitter  remarks  because  the 
cousins  of  the  departed  wife  had  been  placed 
after  the  husband's  relatives,  —  "  the  blood-rela 
tions  ridin'  behind  them  that  was  only  kin  by 
marriage  !  I  don't  wonder  they  felt  hurt  !  "  said 
the  person  who  spoke ;  a  most  unselfish  and  un 
assuming  soul,  ordinarily. 

Mrs.  Patton  knew  everybody's  secrets,  but  she 
told  them  judiciously  if  at  all.  She  chattered  all 
day  to  you  as  a  sparrow  twitters,  and  you  did  not 
tire  of  her;  and  Kate  and  I  were  nevermore  agree 
ably  entertained  than  when  she  told  us  of  old  times 
and  of  Kate's  ancestors  and  their  contemporaries  ; 
for  her  memory  was  wonderful,  and  she  had  either 
seen  everything  that  had  happened  in  Deephaven 
for  a  long  time,  or  had  received  the  particulars 
from  reliable  witnesses.  She  had  known  much 
trouble ;  her  husband  had  been  but  small  satis 
faction  to  her,  and  it  was  not  to  be  wondered  at  if 
she  looked  upon  all  proposed  marriages  with  com 
passion.  She  was  always  early  at  church,  and  she 
wore  the  same  bonnet  that  she  had  when  Kate 
was  a  child  ;  it  was  such  a  well-preserved,  proper 
black  straw  bonnet,  with  discreet  bows  of  ribbon, 


MY  LADY  BRANDON.  57 

and  a  useful  lace   veil  to  protect  it  from  the 
weather. 

She  showed  us  into  the  best  room  the  first  time 
we  went  to  see  her.  It  was  the  plainest  little 
room,  and  very  dull,  and  there  was  an  exact  suf 
ficiency  about  its  furnishings.  Yet  there  was  a 
certain  dignity  about  it ;  it  was  unmistakably  a 
best  room,  and  not  a  place  where  one  might  make 
a  litter  or  carry  one's  every-day  work.  You  felt 
at  once  that  somebody  valued  the  prim  old-fash 
ioned  chairs,  and  the  two  half-moon  tables,  and 
the  thin  carpet,  which  must  have  needed  anxious 
stretching  every  spring  to  make  it  come  to  the  edge 
of  the  floor.  There  were  some  mourning-pieces 
by  way  of  decoration,  inscribed  with  the  names 
of  Mrs.  Patton's  departed  friends,  —  two  worked  in 
crewel  to  the  memory  of  her  father  and  mother, 
and  two  paper  memorials,  with  the  woman  weeping 
lander  the  willow  at  the  side  of  a  monument.  They 
were  all  brown  with  age ;  and  there  was  a  sampler 
beside,  worked  by  "  Judith  Beckett,  aged  ten,"  and 
all  five  were  framed  in  slender  black  frames  and 
hung  very  high  on  the  walls.  There  was  a  rocking- 
chair  which  looked  as  if  it  felt  too  grand  for  use, 
and  considered  itself  imposing.  It  tilted  far  back 
on  its  rockers,  and  was  bent  forward  at  the  top  to 


58  DEEPHA  YEN. 

make  one's  head  uncomfortable.  It  need  not  have 
troubled  itself;  nobody  would  ever  wish  to  sit 
there.  It  was  such  a  big  rocking-chair,  and  Mrs. 
Patton  was  proud  of  it  ;  always  generously  urging 
her  guests  to  enjoy  its  comfort,  which  was  imagi 
nary  with  her,  as  she  was  so  short  that  she  could 
hardly  have  climbed  into  it  without  assistance. 

Mrs.  Patton  was  a  little  ceremonious  at  first,  but 
soon  recovered  herself  and  told  us  a  great  deal 
which  we  were  glad  to  hear.  I  asked  her  once  if 
she  had  not  always  lived  at  Deephaven.  "  Here 
and  beyond  East  Parish,"  said  she.  "  Mr.  Patton, 
—  that  was  my  husband,  —  he  owned  a  good  farm 
there  when  I  married  him,  but  I  come  back  here 
again  after  he  died ;  place  was  all  mortgaged.  I 
never  got  a  cent,  and  I  was  poorer  than  when  I 
started.  I  worked  harder  'n  ever  I  did  before  or 
since  to  keep  things  together,  but  't  was  n't  any 
kind  o'  use.  Your  mother  knows  all  about  it,  Miss 
Kate,"  —  as  if  we  might  not  be  willing  to  believe  it 
on  her  authority.  "  I  come  back  here  a  widow  and 
destitute,  and  I  tell  you  the  world  looked  fair  to 
me  when  I  left  this  house  first  to  go  over  there. 
Don't  you  run  no  risks,  you  're  better  off  as  you 
be,  dears.  But  land  sakes  alive,  '  he  '  did  n't  mean 
no  hurt !  and  he  set  everything  by  me  when  he 


MY  LADY  BRANDON.  59 

was  himself.  I  don't  make  no  scruples  of  speaking 
about  it,  everybody  knows  how  it  was,  but  I  did 
go  through  with  everything.  I  never  knew  what 
the  day  would  bring  forth,"  said  the  widow,  as  if 
this  were  the  first  time  she  had  had  a  chance  to 
tell  her  sorrows  to  a  sympathizing  audience.  She 
did  not  seem  to  mind  talking  about  the  troubles 
of  her  married  life  any  more  than  a  soldier  minds 
telling  the  story  of  his  campaigns,  and  dwells  with 
pride  on  the  worst  battle  of  all. 

Her  favorite  subject  always  was  Miss  Brandon, 
and  after  a  pause  she  said  that  she  hoped  we  were 
finding  everything  right  in  the  house ;  she  had 
meant  to  take  up  the  carpet  in  the  best  spare 
room,  but  it  did  n't  seem  to  need  it ;  it  was  taken 
up  the  year  before,  and  the  room  had  not  been 
used  since,  there  was  not  a  mite  of  dust  under  it 
last  time.  And  Kate  assured  her,  with  an  appear 
ance  of  great  wisdom,  that  she  did  not  think  it 
could  be  necessary  at  all. 

"  I  come  home  and  had  a  good  cry  yesterday 
after  I  was  over  to  see  you,"  said  Mrs.  Patton, 
and  I  could  not  help  wondering  if  she  really  could 
cry,  for  she  looked  so  perfectly  dried  up,  so  dry 
that  she  might  rustle  in  the  wind.  "  Your  aunt 
had  been  failin'  so  long  that  just  after  she  died  it 


60  DEEPllA  VEN. 

was  a  relief,  but  I  've  got  so's  to  forget  all  about 
that,  and  I  miss  her  as  she  used  to  be ;  it  seemed 
as  if  you  had  stepped  into  her  place,  and  you  look 
some  as  she  used  to  when  she  was  young." 

"  You  must  miss  her,"  said  Kate,  "  and  I  know 
how  much  she  used  to  depend  upon  you.  You 
were  very  kind  to  her." 

"  I  sat  up  with  her  the  night  she  died,"  said  the 
widow,  with  mournful  satisfaction.  "  I  have  lived 
neighbor  to  her  all  my  life  except  the  thirteen 
years  I  was  married,  and  there  wasn't  a  week  I 
was  n't  over  to  the  great  house  except  I  was  off  to 
a  distance  taking  care  of  the  sick.  When  she  got 
to  be  feeble  she  always  wanted  me  to  'tend  to  the 
cleaning  and  to  see  to  putting  the  canopies  and 
curtains  on  the  bedsteads,  and  she  would  n't  trust 
nobody  but  me  to  handle  some  of  the  best  china. 
I  used  to  say,  '  Miss  Katharine,  why  don't  you 
have  some  young  folks  come  and  stop  with  you  ] 
There 's  Mis'  Lancaster's  daughter  a  growing  up  '  \ 
but  she  did  n't  seem  to  care  for  nobody  but  your 
mother.  You  would  n't  believe  what  a  hand  she 
used  to  be  for  company  in  her  younger  days. 
Surprisin'  how  folks  alters.  When  I  first  rec'lect 
her  much  she  was  as  straight  as  an  arrow,  and  she 
used  to  go  to  Boston  visiting  and  come  home  with 


MY  LADY  BRANDON.  61 

the  top  of  the  fashion.  She  always  did  dress  ele 
gant.  It  used  to  be  gay  here,  and  she  was  always 
going  down  to  the  Loriruers'  or  the  Carews'  to  tea, 
and  they  coming  here.  Her  sister  was  married ; 
she  was  a  good  deal  older ;  but  some  of  her 
brothers  were  at  home.  There  was  your  grand 
father  and  Mr.  Henry.  I  don't  think  she  ever  got 
it  over,  —  his  disappearing  so.  There  were  lots  of 
folks  then  that 's  dead  and  gone,  and  they  used  to 
have  their  card-parties,  and  old  Cap'n  Manning  — 
he 's  dead  and  gone  —  used  to  have  'em  all  to  play 
whist  every  fortnight,  sometimes  three  or  four 
tables,  and  they  always  had  cake  and  wine  handed 
round,  or  the  cap'n  made  some  punch,  like  's  not, 
with  oranges  in  it,  and  lemons  ;  he  knew  how  !  He 
was  a  bachelor  to  the  end  of  his  days,  the  old 
cap'n  was,  but  he  used  to  entertain  real  hand 
some.  I  rec'lect  one  night  they  was  a  playin' 
after  the  wine  was  brought  in,  and  he  upset  his 
glass  all  over  Miss  Martha  Lorimer's  invisible- 
green  watered  silk,  and  spoilt  the  better  part  of 
two  breadths.  She  sent  right  over  for  me  early 
the  next  morning  to  see  if  I  knew  of  anything  to 
take  out  the  spots,  but  I  did  n't,  though  I  can  take 
grease  out  o'  most  any  material.  We  tried  clear 
alcohol,  and  saleratus-water,  and  hartshorn,  and 


62  DEE  PEA  YEN. 

pouring  water  through,  and  heating  of  it,  and 
when  we  got  through  it  was  worse  than  when  we 
started.  She  felt  dreadful  bad  about  it,  and  at 
last  she  says,  'Judith,  we  won't  work  over  it  any 
more,  but  if  you  '11  give  me  a  day  some  time  or 
'uother.  we  '11  rip  it  up  and  make  a  quilt  of  it.'  I 
see  that  quilt  last  time  I  was  in  Miss  Rebecca's 
north  chamber.  Miss  Martha  was  her  aunt ;  you 
never  saw  her ;  she  was  dead  and  gone  before 
your  day.  It  was  a  silk  old  Cap'n  Peter  Lorimer, 
her  brother,  who  left 'em  his  money,  brought  home 
from  sea,  and  she  had  worn  it  for  best  and  second 
best  eleven  year.  It  looked  as  good  as  new,  and 
she  never  would  have  ripped  it  up  if  she  could 
have  matched  it.  I  said  it  seemed  to  be  a  shame, 
but  it  was  a  curi's  figure.  Cap'n  Manning  fetched 
her  one  to  pay  for  it  the  next  time  he  went  to 
Boston.  She  did  n't  want  to  take  it,  but  he 
would  n't  take  no  for  an  answer ;  he  was  free 
handed,  the  cap'n  was.  I  helped  'em  make  it 
'long  of  Mary  Ann  Simms  the  dressmaker,  —  she 's 
dead  and  gone  too,  —  the  time  it  was  made.  It  was 
brown,  and  a  beautiful-looking  piece,  but  it  wore 
shiny,  and  she  made  a  double-gown  of  it  before  she 
died." 

Mrs.  Patton  brought  Kate  and  me  some  delicious 


MY  LADY  BRANDON.  03 

old-fashioned  cake  with  much  spice  in  it,  and  told 
us  it  was  made  by  old  Mrs.  Chantrey  Brandon's 
receipt  which  she  got  in  England,  that  it  would 
keep  a  year,  and  she  always  kept  a  loaf  by  her, 
now  that  she  could  afford  it ;  she  supposed  we 
knew  Miss  Katharine  had  named  her  in  her  will 
long  before  she  was  sick.  "  It  has  put  me  beyond 
fear  of  want,"  said  Mrs.  Patton.  "  I  won't  deny 
that  I  used  to  think  it  would  go  hard  with  me 
when  I  got  so  old  I  could  n't  earn  my  living.  You 
see  I  never  laid  up  but  a  little,  and  it 's  hard  for 
a  woman  who  conies  of  respectable  folks  to  be  a 
pauper  in  her  last  days  ;  but  your  aunt,  Miss 
Kate,  she  thought  of  it  too,  and  I  'm  sure  I  'm 
thankful  to  be  so  comfortable,  and  to  stay  in  my 
house,  which  I  could  n't  have  done,  like 's  not. 
Miss  Rebecca  Lorimer  said  to  me  after  I  got  news 
of  the  will,  '  Why,  Mis'  Patton,  you  don't  suppose 
your  friends  would  ever  have  let  you  want  ! '  And 
I  says,  '  My  friends  are  kind,  —  the  Lord  bless 
'em  !  —  but  I  feel  better  to  be  able  to  do  for  my 
self  than  to  be  beholden.'  " 

After  this  long  call  we  went  down  to  the  post- 
office,  and  coming  home  stopped  for  a  while  in  the 
old  burying-ground,  which  we  had  noticed  the  day 
before  ;  and  we  sat  for  the  first  time  on  the  great 


64  DEEPHA  YEN. 

stone  in  the  wall,  in  the  shade  of  a  maple-tree, 
where  we  so  often  waited  afterward  for  the  stage 
to  come  with  the  mail,  or  rested  on  our  way  home 
from  a  walk.  It  was  a  comfortable  perch ;  we 
used  to  read  our  letters  there,  I  remember. 

I  must  tell  you  a  little  about  the  Deephaven 
burying-ground,  for  its  interest  was  inexhaustible, 
and  I  do  not  know  how  much  time  we  may  have 
spent  in  reading  the  long  epitaphs  on  the  grave 
stones  and  trying  to  puzzle  out  the  inscriptions, 
which  were  often  so  old  and  worn  that  we  could 
only  trace  a  letter  here  and  there.  It  was  a  neg 
lected  corner  of  the  world,  and  there  were  strag 
gling  sumachs  and  acacias  scattered  about  the 
enclosure,  while  a  row  of  fine  old  elms  marked  the 
boundary  of  two  sides.  The  grass  was  long  and 
tangled,  and  most  of  the  stones  leaned  one  way  or 
the  other,  and  some  had  fallen  flat.  There  were  a 
few  handsome  old  family  monuments  clustered  in 
one  corner,  among  which  the  one  that  marked 
Miss  Brandon's  grave  looked  so  new  and  fresh 
that  it  seemed  inappropriate.  "  It  should  have 
been  dingy  to  begin  with,  like  the  rest,"  said  Kate 
one  day  ;  "  but  I  think  it  will  make  itself  look  like 
its  neighbors  as  soon  as  possible." 

There  were  many  stones  which  were  sacred  to 


MY  LADY  BRANDON.  65 

the  memory  of  men  who  had  been  lost  at  sea, 
almost  always  giving  the  name  of  the  departed 
ship,  which  was  so  kept  in  remembrance ;  and  one 
felt  as  much  interest  in  the  ship  Starlight,  supposed 
to  have  foundered  off  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  as 
in  the  poor  fellow  who  had  the  ill  luck  to  be  one 
of  her  crew.  There  were  dozens  of  such  inscrip 
tions,  and  there  were  other  stones  perpetuating 
the  fame  of  Honourable  gentlemen  who  had  been 
members  of  His  Majesty's  Council,  or  surveyor's 
of  His  Majesty's  Woods,  or  King's  Officers  of  Cus 
toms  for  the  town  of  Deephaven.  Some  of  the 
epitaphs  were  beautiful,  showing  that  tenderness 
for  the  friends  who  had  died,  that  longing  to 
do  them  justice,  to  fully  acknowledge  their  vir 
tues  and  dearness,  which  is  so  touching,  and  so 
unmistakable  even  under  the  stiff,  quaint  ex 
pressions  and  formal  words  which  were  thought 
suitable  to  be  chiselled  on  the  stones,  so  soon  to 
be  looked  at  carelessly  by  the  tearless  eyes  of 
strangers.  We  often  used  to  notice  names,  and 
learn  their  history  from  the  old  people  whom  we 
knew,  and  in  this  way  we  heard  many  stories 
which  we  never  shall  forget.  It  is  wonderful, 
the  romance  and  tragedy  and  adventure  which 
one  may  find  in  a  quiet  old-fashioned  country 

£ 


66  DEEPHA  YEN. 

town,  though  to  heartily  enjoy  the  every-day 
life  one  must  care  to  study  life  and  character, 
and  must  find  pleasure  in  thought  and  observa 
tion  of  simple  things,  and  have  an  instinctive, 
delicious  interest  in  what  to  other  eyes  is  unfla- 
vored  dulness. 

To  go  back  to  Mrs.  Patton ;  on  our  way  home, 
after  our  first  call  upon  her,  we  stopped  to  speak 
to  Mrs.  Dockum,  who  mentioned  that  she  had 
seen  us  going  in  to  the  "  Widow  Jim's." 

"  Willin'  woman,"  said  Mrs.  Dockum,  "always 
been  respected ;  got  an  uncommon  facility  o' 
speech.  I  never  saw  such  a  hand  to  talk,  but 
then  she  has  something  to  say,  which  ain't  the 
case  with  everybody.  Good  neighbor,  does  accord 
ing  to  her  means  always.  Dreadful  tough  time  of 
it  with  her  husband,  shifless  and  drunk  all  his 
time.  Noticed  that  dent  in  the  side  of  her  fore 
head,  I  s'pose  1  That 's  where  he  liked  to  have 
killed  her ;  slung  a  stone  bottle  at  her." 

"  What  /"  said  Kate  and  I,  very  much  shocked. 

"  She  don't  like  to  have  it  inquired  about ;  but 
she  and  I  were  sitting  up  with  'Manda  Darner  one 
night,  and  she  gave  me  the  particulars.  I  knew 
he  did  it,  for  she  had  a  fit  o'  sickness  afterward. 
Had  sliced  cucumbers  for  breakfast  that  morning ; 


MY  LADY  BRANDON.  67 

he  was  very  partial  to  them,  and  he  wanted  some 
vinegar.  Happened  to  be  two  bottles  in  the  cel 
lar-way  ;  were  just  alike,  and  one  of  'em  was  vin 
egar  and  the  other  had  sperrit  in  it  at  haying- 
time.  He  takes  up  the  wrong  one  and  pours  on 
quick,  and  out  come  the  hayseed  and  flies,  and 
he  give  the  bottle  a  sling,  and  it  hit  her  there 
where  you  see  the  scar ;  might  put  the  end  of 
your  finger  into  the  dent.  He  said  he  meant  to 
break  the  bottle  ag'in  the  door,  but  it  went  slant 
wise,  sort  of.  I  don'  know,  I  'm  sure  "  (medita 
tively).  "  She  said  he  was  good-natured  ;  it  was 
early  in  the  mornin',  and  he  had  n't  had  time  to 
get  upset ;  but  he  had  a  high  temper  naturally, 
and  so  much  drink  had  n't  made  it  much  better. 
She  had  good  prospects  when  she  married  him. 
Six-foot-two  and  red  cheeks  and  straight  as  a  Nor- 
oway  pine  ;  had  a  good  property  from  his  father, 
and  his  mother  come  of  a  good  family,  but  he  died 
in  debt;  drank  like  a  fish.  Yes, 't  was  a  shame,  nice 
woman ;  good  consistent  church-member ;  always 
been  respected  ;  useful  among  the  sick." 


DEEPHAVEN   SOCIETY. 


T  was  curious  to  notice,  in  this  quaint 
little  fishing-village  by  the  sea,  how 
cleai'ly  the  gradations  of  society  were 
defined.  The  place  prided  itself  most  upon  having 
been  long  ago  the  residence  of  one  Governor  Chun- 
trey,  who  was  a  rich  ship-owner  and  East  India 
merchant,  and  whose  fame  and  magnificence  were 
almost  fabulous.  It  was  a  never-ceasing  regret 
that  his  house  should  have  burned  down  after  he 
died,  and  there  is  no  doubt  that  if  it  were  still 
standing  it  would  rival  any  ruin  of  the  Old  World. 
The  elderly  people,  though  laying  claim  to  no 
slight  degree  of  present  consequence,  modestly 
ignored  it,  and  spoke  with  pride  of  the  grand  way 
in  which  life  was  carried  on  by  their  ancestors,  the 
Decphaven  families  of  old  times.  I  think  Kate 
and  I  were  assured  at  least  a  hundred  times  that 
Governor  Chantrey  kept  a  valet,  and  his  wife. 
Lady  Chantrey,  kept  a  maid,  and  that  the  gov- 


LEEPHAVEN  SOCIETY.  '  69 

ernor  had  an  uncle  in  England  who  was  a  baronet ; 
and  I  believe  this  must  have  been  why  our  friends 
felt  so  deep  an  interest  in  the  affairs  of  the  Eng 
lish  nobility  :  they  no  doubt  felt  themselves  en 
titled  to  seats  near  the  throne  itself.  There  were 
formerly  five  families  who  kept  their  coaches  in 
Deephaven ;  thei-e  were  balls  at  the  governor's, 
and  regal  entertainments  at  other  of  the  grand 
mansions ;  there  is  not  a  really  distinguished  per 
son  in  the  country  who  will  not  prove  to  have 
been  directly  or  indirectly  connected  with  Deep- 
haven.  We  were  shown  the  cellar  of  the  Chantrey 
house,  and  the  terraces,  and  a  few  clumps  of  lilacs, 
and  the  grand  rows  of  elms.  There  are  still  two 
of  the  governor's  warehouses  left,  but  his  ruined 
wharves  are  fast  disappearing,  and  are  almost 
deserted,  except  by  small  barefooted  boys  who 
sit  on  the  edges  to  fish  for  sea-perch  when  the 
tide  comes  in.  There  is  an  imposing  monument 
in  the  burying-ground  to  the  great  man  and  his 
amiable  consort.  I  am  sure  that  if  there  were 
any  surviving  relatives  of  the  governor  they  would 
receive  in  Deephaven  far  more  deference  than  is 
consistent  with  the  principles  of  a  republican 
government ;  but  the  family  became  extinct  long 
eiiice,  and  I  have  heard,  though  it  is  not  a  subject 


70  DEEPIIA  YEN. 

that  one  may  speak  of  lightly,  that  the  sons  were 
unworthy  their  noble  descent  and  came  to  inglo 
rious  ends. 

There  were  still  remaining  a  few  representatives 
of  the  old  families,  who  were  treated  with  much 
reverence  by  the  rest  of  the  townspeople,  although 
they  were,  like  the  conies  of  Scripture,  a  feeble  folk. 

Deephaven  is  utterly  out  of  fashion.  It  never 
recovered  from  the  effects  of  the  embargo  of  1807, 
and  a  sand-bar  has  been  steadily  filling  in  the 
mouth  of  the  harbor.  Though  the  fishing  gives 
what  occupation  there  is  for  the  inhabitants  of  the 
place,  it  is  by  no  means  sufficient  to  draw  recruits 
from  abroad.  But  nobody  in  Deephaven  cares  for 
excitement,  and  if  some  one  once  in  a  while  has 
the  low  taste  to  prefer  a  more  active  life,  he  is 
obliged  to  go  elsewhere  in  search  of  it,  and  is 
spoken  of  afterward  with  kind  pity.  I  well  re 
member  the  Widow  Moses  said  to  me,  in  speaking 
of  a  certain  misguided  nephew  of  hers,  "  I  never 
could  see  what  could  'a'  sot  him  out  to  leave  so 
many  privileges  and  go  way  off  to  Lynn,  with  all 
them  children  too.  Why,  they  lived  here  no  more 
than  a  cable's  length  from  the  meetin'-house  !  " 

There  were  two  schooners  owned  in  town,  and 
'Bijah  Mauley  and  Jo  Sands  owned  a  trawl.  There 


DEEPHAVEN  SOCIETY.  71 

were  some  schooners  and  a  small  brig  slowly  going 
to  pieces  by  the  wharves,  and  indeed  all  Deephaven 
looked  more  or  less  out  of  repair.  All  along  shore 
one  might  see  dories  and  wherries  and  whale- 
boats,  which  had  been  left  to  die  a  lingering  death. 
There  is  something  piteous  to  me  in  the  sight  of 
an  old  boat.  If  one  I  had  used  much  and  cared 
for  were  past  its  usefulness,  I  should  say  good  by 
to  it,  and  have  it  towed  out  to  sea  and  sunk ;  it 
never  should  be  left  to  fall  to  pieces  above  high- 
water  mark. 

Even  the  commonest  fishermen  felt  a  satisfac 
tion,  and  seemed  to  realize  their  privilege,  in  being 
residents  of  Deephaven ;  but  among  the  nobility 
and  gentry  there  lingered  a  fierce  pride  in  their 
family  and  town  records,  and  a  hardly  concealed 
contempt  and  pity  for  people  who  were  obliged 
to  live  in  other  parts  of  the  world.  There  were 
acknowledged  to  be  a  few  disadvantages,  —  such 
as  living  nearly  a  dozen  miles  from  the  railway,  — 
but,  as  Miss  Honora  Carew  said,  the  tone  of  Deep- 
haven  society  had  always  been  very  high,  and  it 
was  very  nice  that  there  had  never  been  any  man 
ufacturing  element  introduced.  She  could  not  feel 
too  grateful,  herself,  that  there  was  no  disagreeable 
foreign  population. 


72  DEEPHA  YEN. 

"  But,"  said  Kate  one  day,  "  would  n't  you  like 
to  have  some  pleasant  new  people  brought  into 
town  1 " 

"  Certainly,  my  dear,"  said  Miss  Honora,  rather 
doubtfully  ;  "  I  have  always  been  public-spirited  ; 
but  then,  we  always  have  guests  in  summer,  and 
I  am  growing  old.  I  should  not  care  to  enlarge 
my  acquaintance  to  any  great  extent."  Miss 
Honora  and  Mrs.  Dent  had  lived  gay  lives  in 
their  younger  days,  and  were  interested  and  con 
nected  with  the  outside  world  more  than  any  of 
our  Deephaven  friends  ;  but  they  were  quite  con 
tented  to  stay  in  their  own  house,  with  their  books 
and  letters  and  knitting,  and  they  carefully  read 
Littell  and  "  the  new  magazine,"  as  they  called 
the  Atlantic. 

The  Carews  were  very  intimate  with  the  minis 
ter  and  his  sister,  and  there  were  one  or  two  others 
who  belonged  to  this  set.  There  was  Mr.  Joshua 
Dorsey,  who  wore  his  hair  in  a  queue,  was  very 
deaf,  and  carried  a  ponderous  cane  which  had 
belonged  to  his  venerated  father,  —  a  much  taller 
man  than  he.  He  was  polite  to  Kate  and  me,  but 
we  never  knew  him  much.  He  went  to  play  whist 
with  the  Carews  every  Monday  evening,  and  com 
monly  went  out  fishing  once  a  week.  He  had 


DEEPHAVEN  SOCIETY.  73 

begun  the  practice  of  law,  but  he  had  lost  his 
hearing,  and  at  the  same  time  his  lady-love  had 
inconsiderately  fallen  in  love  with  somebody 
else  ;  after  which  he  retired  from  active  business 
life.  He  had  a  fine  library,  which  he  invited  us 
to  examine.  He  had  many  new  books,  but  they 
looked  shockingly  overdressed,  in  their  fresher 
bindings,  beside  the  old  brown  volumes  of  essays 
and  sermons,  and  lighter  works  in  many-volume 
editions. 

A  prominent  link  in  society  was  Widow  Tully, 
who  had  been  the  much-respected  housekeeper  of 
old  Captain  Manning  for  forty  years.  When  he 
died  he  left  her  the  use  of  his  house  and  family 
pew,  besides  an  annuity.  The  existence  of  Mr. 
Tully  seemed  to  be  a  myth.  During  the  first  of 
his  widow's  residence  in  town  she  had  been  much 
affected  when  obliged  to  speak  of  him,  and  always 
represented  herself  as  having  seen  better  days  and 
as  being  highly  connected.  But  she  was  apt  to 
be  ungrammatical  when  excited,  and  there  was  a 
whispered  tradition  that  she  used  to  keep  a  toll- 
bridge  in  a  town  in  Connecticut ;  though  the  mys 
tery  of  her  previous  state  of  existence  will  prob 
ably  never  be  solved.  She  wore  mourning  for  the 
captain  which  would  have  befitted  his  widow,  and 
4 


74  DEEPHA  VEX. 

patronized  the  townspeople  conspicuously,  while 
she  herself  was  treated  with  much  condescension 
by  the  Carews  and  Lorimers.  She  occupied,  on 
the  whole,  much  the  same  position  that  Mrs.  Betty 
Barker  did  in  Cranford.  And,  indeed,  Kate  and  I 
were  often  reminded  of  that  estimable  town.  We 
heard  that  Kate's  aunt,  Miss  Brandon,  had  never 
been  appreciative  of  Mrs.  Tully's  merits,  and  that 
since  her  death  the  others  had  received  Mrs.  Tully 
into  their  society  rather  more. 

It  seemed  as  if  all  the  clocks  in  Deephaven,  and 
all  the  people  with  them,  had  stopped  years  ago, 
and  the  people  had  been  doing  over  and  over  what 
they  had  been  busy  about  during  the  last  week  of 
their  unambitious  progress.  Their  clothes  had 
lasted  wonderfully  well,  and  they  had  no  need  to 
earn  money  when  there  was  so  little  chance  to 
spend  it ;  indeed,  there  were  several  families  who 
seemed  to  have  no  more  visible  means  of  support 
than  a  balloon.  There  were  no  young  people 
whom  we  knew,  though  a  number  used  to  come 
to  church  on  Sunday  from  the  inland  farms,  or 
"  the  country,"  as  we  learned  to  say.  There  were 
children  among  the  fishermen's  families  at  thu 
shore,  but  a  few  years  will  see  Deephaven  possessed 
by  two  classes  instead  of  the  time-honored  three. 


DEEPHAVEN  SOCIETY.  75 

As  for  our  first  Sunday  at  church,  it  must  be 
in  vain  to  ask  you  to  imagine  our  delight  when  we 
heard  the  tuning  of  a  bass-viol  in  the  gallery  just 
before  service.  We  pressed  each  other's  hands 
most  tenderly,  looked  up  at  the  singers'  seats,  and 
then  trusted  ourselves  to  look  at  each  other.  It 
was  more  than  we  had  hoped  for.  There  were 
also  a  violin  and  sometimes  a  flute,  and  a  choir  of 
men  and  women  singers,  though  the  congregation 
were  expected  to  join  in  the  psalm-singing.  The 
first  hymn  was 

"  The  Lord  our  God  is  full  of  might, 
The  winds  obey  his  will," 

to  the  tune  of  St.  Ann's.  It  was  all  so  delight 
fully  old-fashioned  ;  our  pew  was  a  square  pew, 
and  was  by  an  open  window  looking  seaward.  We 
also  had  a  view  of  the  entire  congregation,  and 
as  we  were  somewhat  early,  we  watched  the  people 
come  in,  with  great  interest.  The  Deephaven 
aristocracy  came  with  stately  step  up  the  aisle ; 
this  was  all  the  chance  there  was  for  displaying 
their  unquestioned  dignity  in  public. 

Many  of  the  people  drove  to  church  in  wagons 
that  were  low  and  old  and  creaky,  with  worn  buf 
falo-robes  over  the  seat,  and  some  hay  tucked 


76  DEEPHA  YEN. 

underneath  for  the  sleepy,  undecided  old  horse. 
Some  of  the  younger  farmers  and  their  wives  had 
high,  shiny  wagons,  with  tall  horsewhips,  —  which 
they  sometimes  brought  into  church,  —  and  they 
drove  up  to  the  steps  with  a  consciousness  of  being 
conspicuous  and  enviable.  They  had  a  bashful 
look  when  they  came  in,  and  for  a  few  minutes 
after  they  took  their  seats  they  evidently  felt  that 
all  eyes  were  fixed  \ipon  them  ;  but  after  a  little 
while  they  were  quite  at  their  ease,  and  looked 
critically  at  the  new  arrivals. 

The  old  folks  interested  us  most.  "  Do  you 
notice  how  many  more  old  women  there  are  than  old 
men?"  whispered  Kate  to  me.  And  we  wondered 
if  the  husbands  and  brothers  had  been  drowned, 
and  if  it  must  not  be  sad  to  look  at  the  blue, 
sunshiny  sea  beyond  the  marshes,  if  the  far-away 
white  sails  reminded  them  of  some  ships  that  had 
never  sailed  home  into  Deephaven  harbor,  or  of 
fishing-boats  that  had  never  come  back  to  land. 

The  girls  and  young  men  adorned  themselves 
in  what  they  believed  to  be  the  latest  fashion,  but 
the  elderly  women  were  usually  relics  of  old  times 
in  manner  and  dress.  They  wore  to  church  thin, 
soft  silk  gowns  that  must  have  been  brought  from 
over  the  seas  years  upon  years  before,  and  wide 


DEEPHAVEN  SOCIETY.  77 

collars  fastened  with  mourning-pins  holding  a  lock 
of  hair.  They  had  big  black  bonnets,  some  of 
them  with  stiff  capes,  such  as  Kate  and  I  had  not 
seen  before  since  our  childhood.  They  treasured 
large  rusty  lace  veils  of  scraggly  pattern,  and 
wore  sometimes,  on  pleasant  Sundays,  white  China- 
crape  shawls  with  attenuated  fringes ;  and  there 
were  two  or  three  of  these  shawls  in  the  congre 
gation  which  had  been  dyed  black,  and  gave  an 
aspect  of  meekness  and  general  unworthiness  to 
the  aged  wearer,  they  clung  and  drooped  about 
the  figure  in  such  a  hopeless  way.  We  used  to 
notice  often  the  most  interesting  scarfs,  without 
which  no  Deephaven  woman  considered  herself  in 
full  dress.  Sometimes  there  were  red  India  scarfs 
in  spite  of  its  being  hot  weather  ;  but  our  favorite 
ones  were  long  strips  of  silk,  embroidered  along 
the  edges  and  at  the  ends  with  dismal-colored  floss 
in  odd  patterns.  I  think  there  must  have  been 
a  fashion  once,  in  Deephaven,  of  working  these 
scarfs,  and  I  should  not  be  surprised  to  find  that 
it  was  many  years  before  the  fashion  of  working 
samplers  came  about.  Our  friends  always  wore 
black  mitts  on  warm  Sundays,  and  many  of  them 
carried  neat  little  bags  of  various  designs  on  their 
arms,  containing  a  precisely  folded  pocket-hand- 


78  DEEPIIA  YEN. 

kerchief,  and  a  frugal  lunch  of  caraway  seeds  or 
red  and  white  peppermints.  I  should  like  you  to 
see,  with  your  own  eyes,  Widow  Ware  and  Miss 
Exper'ence  Hull,  two  old  sisters  whose  personal 
appearance  we  delighted  in,  and  whom  we  saw 
feebly  approaching  down  the  street  this  first 
Sunday  morning  under  the  shadow  of  the  two 
last  members  of  an  otherwise  extinct  race  of 
parasols. 

There  were  two  or  three  old  men  who  sat  near 
us.  They  were  sailors,  —  there  is  something  un 
mistakable  about  a  sailor,  —  and  they  had  a  curi 
ously  ancient,  uncanny  look,  as  if  they  might  have 
belonged  to  the  crew  of  the  Mayflower,  or  even 
have  cruised  about  with  the  Northmen  in  the 
times  of  Harold  Harfager  and  his  comrades.  They 
had  been  blown  about  by  so  many  winter  winds, 
so  browned  by  summer  suns,  and  wet  by  salt 
spray,  that  their  hands  and  faces  looked  like  leather, 
with  a  few  deep  folds  instead  of  wrinkles.  They 
had  pale  blue  eyes,  very  keen  and  quick ;  their 
hair  looked  like  the  fine  sea-weed  which  clings  to 
the  kelp-roots  and  mussel-shells  in  little  locks. 
These  friends  of  ours  sat  solemnly  at  the  heads  of 
their  pews  and  looked  unflinchingly  at  the  minister, 
when  they  were  not  dozing,  and  they  sang  with 


DEEPHAVEN  SOCIETY.  79 

voices  like  the  howl  of  the  wind,  with  an  occasional 
deep  note  or  two. 

Have  you  never  seen  faces  that  seemed  old- 
fashioned  1  Many  of  the  people  in  Deephaven 
church  looked  as  if  they  must  be  —  if  not  super- 
naturally  old  — -  exact  copies  of  their  remote  an 
cestors.  I  wonder  if  it  is  not  possible  that  the 
features  and  expression  may  be  almost  perfectly 
reproduced.  These  faces  were  not  modern  Amer 
ican  faces,  but  belonged  rather  to  the  days  of  the 
early  settlement  of  the  country,  the  old  colonial 
times.  We  often  heard  quaint  words  and  expres 
sions  which  we  never  had  known  anywhere  else  but 
in  old  books.  There  was  a  great  deal  of  sea-lingo 
in  use  ;  indeed,  we  learned  a  great  deal  ourselves, 
unconsciously,  and  used  it  afterward  to  the  great 
amusement  of  our  friends ;  but  there  were  also 
many  peculiar  provincialisms,  and  among  the  peo 
ple  who  lived  on  the  lonely  farms  inland  we  often 
noticed  words  we  had  seen  in  Chaucer,  and  studied 
out  at  school  in  our  English  literature  class.  Every 
thing  in  Deephaven  was  more  or  less  influenced  by 
the  sea ;  the  minister  spoke  oftenest  of  Peter  and 
his  fishermen  companions,  and  prayed  most  ear 
nestly  every  Sunday  morning  for  those  who  go  down 
to  the  sea  in  ships.  He  made  frequent  allusions 


80  DEEPHA  YEN. 

and  drew  numberless  illustrations  of  a  similar 
kind  for  his  sermons,  and  indeed  I  am  in  doubt 
•whether,  if  the  Bible  had  been  written  wholly  in 
inland  countries,  it  would  have  been  much  valued 
in  Deephaven. 

The  singing  was  very  droll,  for  there  was  a 
majority  of  old  voices,  which  had  seen  their  best 
days  long  before,  and  the  bass-viol  was  excessively 
noticeable,  and  apt  to  be  a  little  ahead  of  the  time 
the  singers  kept,  while  the  violin  lingered  after. 
Somewhere  on  the  other  side  of  the  church  we 
heard  an  acute  voice  which  rose  high  above  all  the 
rest  of  the  congregation,  sharp  as  a  needle,  and 
slightly  cracked,  with  a  limitless  supply  of  breath. 
It  rose  and  fell  gallantly,  and  clung  long  to  the 
high  notes  of  Dundee.  It  was  like  the  wail  of  the 
banshee,  which  sounds  clear  to  the  fated  hearer 
above  all  other  noises.  We  afterward  became  ac 
quainted  with  the  owner  of  this  voice,  and  were 
surprised  to  find  her  a  meek  widow,  who  was  like 
a  thin  black  beetle  in  her  pathetic  cypress  veil 
and  big  black  bonnet.  She  looked  as  if  she  had 
forgotten  who  she  was,  and  spoke  with  an  apolo 
getic  whine  ;  but  we  heard  she  had  a  temper  as 
high  as  her  voice,  and  as  much  to  be  dreaded  as 
the  equinoctial  gale. 


DEEPHAVEN  SOCIETY.  81 

Near  the  church  was  the  parsonage,  where  Mr. 
Lorimer  lived,  and  the  old  Lorimer  house  not  far 
beyond  was  occupied  by  Miss  Rebecca  Lorimer. 
Some  stranger  might  ask  the  question  why  the 
minister  and  his  sister  did  not  live  together,  but 
you  would  have  understood  it  at  once  after  you 
had  lived  for  a  little  while  in  town.  They  were 
very  fond  of  each  other,  and  the  minister  dined  with 
Miss  Rebecca  on  Sundays,  and  she  passed  the  day 
^with  him  on  Wednesdays,  and  they  ruled  their 
separate  households  with  decision  and  dignity.  I 
think  Mr.  Lorimer's  house  showed  no  signs  of 
being  without  a  mistress,  any  more  than  his  sister's 
betrayed  the  want  of  a  master's  care  and  authority. 

The  Carews  were  very  kind  friends  of  ours,  and 
had  been  Miss  Brandon's  best  friends.  We  heard 
that  there  had  always  been  a  coolness  between 
Miss  Brandon  and  Miss  Lorimer,  and  that,  though 
they  exchanged  visits  and  were  always  polite,  there 
was  a  chill  in  the  politeness,  and  one  would  never 
have  suspected  them  of  admiring  each  other  at  all. 
We  had  the  whole  history  of  the  trouble,  which 
dated  back  scores  of  years,  from  Miss  Honora 
Carew,  but  we  always  took  pains  to  appear  igno 
rant  of  the  feud,  and  I  think  Miss  Lorimer  was 
satisfied  that  it  was  best  not  to  refer  to  it,  and  to  let 
4"  F 


82  DEEPHA  YEN. 

• 

bygones  be  bygones.  It  would  not  have  been  true 
Deephaven  courtesy  to  prejudice  Kate  against  her 
grand-aunt,  and  Miss  Rebecca  cherished  her  dis 
like  in  silence,  which  gave  us  a  most  grand  respect 
for  her,  since  we  knew  she  thought  herself  in  the 
right ;  though  I  think  it  never  had  come  to  an  open 
quarrel  between  these  majestic  aristocrats. 

Miss  Honora  Carew  and  Mr.  Dick  and  their 
elder  sister,  Mrs.  Dent,  had  a  charmingly  sedate 
and  quiet  home  in  the  old  Carew  house.  Mrs. 
Dent  was  ill  a  great  deal  while  we  were  there,  but 
she  must  have  been  a  very  brilliant  woman,  and 
was  not  at  all  dull  when  we  knew  her.  She  had 
outlived  her  husband  and  her  children,  and  she 
had,  several  years  before  our  summer  there,  given 
up  her  own  home,  which  was  in  the  city,  and  had 
come  back  to  Deephaven.  Miss  Honora — dear  Miss 
Honora  !  —  had  been  one  of  the  brightest,  happiest 
girls,  and  had  lost  none  of  her  brightness  and 
happiness  by  growing  old.  She  had  lost  none  of 
her  fondness  for  society,  though  she  was  so  con 
tented  in  quiet  Deephaven,  and  I  think  she  enjoyed 
Kate's  and  my  stories  of  our  pleasures  as  much  as 
we  did  hers  of  old  times.  We  used  to  go  to  see 
her  almost  every  day.  "  Mr.  Dick,"  as  they  called 
their  brother,  had  once  been  a  merchant  in  the 


DEEPHAVEN  SOCIETY.  83 

East  Indies,  and  there  were  quantities  of  curiosi 
ties  and  most  beautiful  china  which  he  had  brought 
and  sent  home,  which  gave  the  house  a  character 
of  its  own.  He  had  been  very  rich  and  had  lost 
some  of  his  money,  and  then  he  came  home  and 
was  still  considered  to  possess  princely  wealth  by 
his  neighbors.  He  had  a  great  fondness  for  read 
ing  and  study,  which  had  not  been  lost  sight  of 
during  his  business  life,  and  he  spent  most  of  his 
time  in  his  library.  He  and  Mr.  Lorimer  had 
their  differences  of  opinion  about  certain  points  of 
theology,  and  this  made  them  much  fonder  of  each 
other's  society,  and  gave  them  a  great  deal  of 
pleasure  ;  for  after  every  series  of  arguments,  each 
was  sure  that  he  had  vanquished  the  other,  or 
there  were  alternate  victories  and  defeats  which 
made  life  vastly  interesting  and  important. 

Miss  Carew  and  Mrs.  Dent  had  a  great  treasury 
of  old  brocades  and  laces  and  ornaments,  which 
they  showed  us  one  day,  and  told  us  stories  of  the 
wearers,  or,  if  they  were  their  own,  there  were  always 
some  reminiscences  which  they  liked  to  talk  over 
with  each  other  and  with  us.  I  never  shall  forget 
the  first  evening  we  took  tea  with  them  ;  it  im 
pressed  us  very  much,  and  yet  nothing  wonderful 
happened.  Tea  was  handed  round  by  an  old- 


84  DEEPHA  YEN. 

fashioned  maid,  and  afterward  we  sat  talking  in 
the  twilight,  looking  out  at  the  garden.  It  was 
such  a  delight  to  have  tea  served  in  this  way.  I 
wonder  that  the  fashion  has  been  almost  forgotten. 
Kate  and  I  took  much  pleasure  in  choosing  our 
tea-poys  ;  hers  had  a  mandarin  parading  on  the 
top,  and  mine  a  flight  of  birds  and  a  pagoda  ;  and 
we  often  used  them  afterward,  for  Miss  Honora 
asked  us  to  come  to  tea  whenever  we  liked.  "  A 
stupid,  common  country  town  "  some  one  dared  to 
call  Deephaven  in  a  letter  once,  and  how  bitterly 
we  resented  it !  That  was  a  house  where  one 
might  find  the  best  society,  and  the  most  charm 
ing  manners  and  good-breeding,  and  if  I  were 
asked  to  tell  you  what  I  mean  by  the  word  "  lady," 
I  should  ask  you  to  go,  if  it  were  possible,  to  call 
upon  Miss  Honora  Carew. 

After  a  while  the  elder  sister  said,  "  My  dears, 
we  always  have  prayers  at  nine,  for  I  have  to  go 
up  stairs  early  nowadays."  And  then  the  servants 
came  in,  and  she  read  solemnly  the  King  of  glory 
Psalm,  which  I  have  always  liked  best,  and  then 
Mr.  Dick  read  the  church  prayers,  the  form  of 
prayer  to  be  used  in  families.  \Vc  stayed  later  to 
talk  with  Miss  Honora  after  we  had  said  good  night 
to  Mrs.  Dent.  And  we  told  each  other,  as  we  went 


DEEPEAVEN  SOCIETY.  85 

home  in  the  moonlight  down  the  quiet  street,  how 
much  we  had  enjoyed  the  evening,  for  somehow 
the  house  and  the  people  had  nothing  to  do  with 
the  present,  or  the  hurry  of  modern  life.  I  have 
never  heard  that  psalm  since  without  its  bringing 
back  that  summer  night  in  Deephaven,  the  beauti 
ful  quaint  old  room,  and  Kate  and  I  feeling  so 
young  and  worldly,  by  contrast,  the  flickering, 
shaded  light  of  the  candles,  the  old  book,  and  the 
voices  that  said  Amen. 

There  were  several  other  fine  old  houses  in 
Deephaven  beside  this  and  the  Brandon  house, 
though  that  was  rather  the  most  imposing.  There 
were  two  or  three  which  had  not  been  kept  in  re 
pair,  and  were  deserted,  and  of  course  they  were 
said  to  be  haunted,  and  we  were  told  of  their 
ghosts,  and  why  they  walked,  and  when.  From 
some  of  the  local  superstitions  Kate  and  I  have 
vainly  endeavored  ever  since  to  shake  ourselves 
free.  There  was  a  most  heathenish  fear  of  doing 
certain  things  on  Friday,  and  there  were  countless 
signs  in  which  we  still  have  confidence.  When  the 
moon  is  very  bright  and  other  people  grow  senti 
mental,  we  only  remember  that  it  is  a  fine  night 
to  catch  hake. 


THE   CAPTAINS. 


SHOULD  consider  my  account  of  Deep- 
haven  society  incomplete  if  I  did  not  tell 
you  something  of  the  ancient  mariners, 
who  may  be  found  every  pleasant  morning  sunning 
themselves  like  turtles  on  one  of  the  wharves. 
Sometimes  there  was  a  considerable  group  of  them, 
but  the  less  constant  members  of  the  club  were 
older  than  the  rest,  and  the  epidemics  of  rheuma 
tism  in  town  were  sadly  frequent.  We  found  that 
it  was  etiquette  to  call  them  each  captain,  but  I 
think  some  of  the  Dcephaven  men  took  the  title 
by  brevet  upon  arriving  at  a  proper  age. 

They  sat  close  together  because  so  many  of 
them  were  deaf,  and  when  we  were  lucky  enough 
to  overhear  the  conversation,  it  seemed  to  concern 
their  adventures  at  sea,  or  the  freight  carried  out 
by  the  Sea  Duck,  the  Ocean  Rover,  or  some  other 
Deephaven  ship,  —  the  particulars  of  the  voyage 
and  its  disasters  and  successes  being  as  familiar  as 


THE  CAPTAINS.  87 

the  wanderings  of  the  children  of  Israel  to  an  old 
parson.  There  were  sometimes  violent  altercations 
when  the  captains  differed  as  to  the  tonnage  of  some 
craft  that  had  been  a  prey  to  the  winds  and  waves, 
dry-rot,  or  barnacles  fifty  years  before.  The  old 
fellows  puffed  away  at  little  black  pipes  with  short 
stems,  and  otherwise  consumed  tobacco  in  fabulous 
quantities.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  they  gave 
an  immense  deal  of  attention  to  the  weather.  We 
vised  to  wish  we  could  join  this  agreeable  company, 
but  we  found  that  the  appearance  of  an  outsider 
caused  a  disapproving  silence,  and  that  the  meet 
ing  was  evidently  not  to  be  interfered  with.  Once 
we  were  impertinent  enough  to  hide  ourselves  for 
a  while  just  round  the  corner  of  the  warehouse,  but 
we  were  afraid  or  ashamed  to  try  it  again,  though 
the  conversation  was  inconceivably  edifying.  Cap 
tain  Isaac  Horn,  the  eldest  and  wisest  of  all,  was 
discoursing  upon  some  cloth  he  had  purchased 
once  in  Bristol,  which  the  shop-keeper  delayed 
sending  until  just  as  they  were  ready  to  weigh 
anchor. 

"  I  happened  to  take  a  look  at  that  cloth,"  said 
the  captain,  in  a  loud  droning  voice,  "  and  as  quick 
as  I  got  sight  of  it,  I  spoke  onpleasant  of  that 
swindling  English  fellow,  and  the  crew,  they  stood 


88  DEEPHA  YEN. 

back.  I  was  dreadful  high-tempered  in  them  days, 
mind  ye ;  and  I  had  the  gig  manned.  We  was 
out  in  the  stream,  just  ready  to  sail.  'T  was  no 
use  waiting  any  longer  for  the  wind  to  change,  and 
we  was  going  north-about.  I  went  ashore,  and 
when  I  walks  into  his  shop  ye  never  see  a  creatur' 
so  wilted.  Ye  see  the  niiser'ble  sculpin  thought 
I  'd  never  stop  to  open  the  goods,  an'  it  was  a 
chance  I  did,  mind  ye  !  '  Lor,'  says  he,  grinning 
and  turning  the  color  of  a  biled  lobster,  '  I  s'posed 
ye  were  a  standing  out  to  sea  by  this  time.'  '  No,' 
says  I,  '  and  I  've  got  my  men  out  here  on  the  quay 
a  landing  that  cloth  o'  yourn,  and  if  you  don't  send 
just  what  I  bought  and  paid  for  down  there  to  go 
back  in  the  gig  within  fifteen  minutes,  I  '11  take  ye 
by  the  collar  and  drop  ye  into  the  dock.'  I  was 
twice  the  size  of  him,  mind  ye,  and  master  strong. 
'  Don't  ye  like  it  1 '  says  he,  edging  round  ;  '  I  '11 
change  it  for  ye,  then.'  Ter'ble  perlite  he  was. 
'  Like  it  1 '  says  I,  '  it  looks  as  if  it  were  built  of 
dog's  hair  and  divil's  wool,  kicked  together  by 
spiders ;  and  it 's  coarser  than  Irish  frieze ;  three 
threads  to  an  armful,'  says  I." 

This  was  evidently  one  of  the  captain's  favorite 
stories,  for  we  heard  an  approving  grumble  from 
the  audience. 


THE  CAPTAINS.  89 

In  the  course  of  a  walk  inland  we  made  a  new 
acquaintance,  Captain  Lant,  whom  we  had  noticed 
at  church,  and  who  sometimes  joined  the  company 
on  the  wharf.  We  had  been  walking  through  the 
woods,  and  coming  out  to  his  fields  we  went  on  to 
the  house  for  some  water.  There  was  no  one  at 
home  but  the  captain,  who  told  us  cheerfully 
that  he  should  be  pleased  to  serve  us,  though  his 
women-folks  had  gone  off  to  a  funeral,  the  other 
side  of  the  P'int.  He  brought  out  a  pitcherful 
of  milk,  and  after  we  had  drunk  some,  we  all  sat 
down  together  in  the  shade.  The  captain  brought 
an  old  flag-bottomed  chair  from  the  woodhouse, 
and  sat  down  facing  Kate  and  me,  with  an  air  of 
certainty  that  he  was  going  to  hear  something  new 
and  make  some  desirable  new  acquaintances,  and 
also  that  he  could  tell  something  it  would  be  worth 
our  while  to  hear.  He  looked  more  and  more  like 
a  well-to-do  old  English  sparrow,  and  chippered 
faster  and  faster. 

"  Queer  ye  should  know  I  'm  a  sailor  so  quick ; 
why,  I  've  been  a-farming  it  this  twenty  years  ;  have 
to  go  down  to  the  shore  and  take  a  day's  fishing 
every  hand's  turn,  though,  to  keep  the  old  hulk 
clear  of  barnacles.  There  !  I  do  wish  I  lived 
nigher  the  shore,  where  I  could  see  the  folks  I 


90  DEEPHA  VEX. 

know,  and  talk  about  what 's  been  a-goin'  on.  You 
don't  know  anything  about  it,  you  don't ;  but  it 's 
tryin'  to  a  man  to  be  called  '  old  Cap'n  Lant,'  and, 
so  to  speak,  be  forgot  when  there  's  anything  stir 
ring,  and  be  called  gran'ther  by  clumsy  creatur's 
goin'  on  fifty  and  sixty,  who  can't  do  no  more  work 
to-day  than  I  can  ;  an'  then  the  women-folks  keeps 
a-tellin'  me  to  be  keerful  and  not  fall,  and  as  how 
I  'm  too  old  to  go  out  fishing ;  and  when  they  want 
to  be  soft-spoken,  they  say  as  how  they  don't  see 
as  I  fail,  and  how  wonderful  I  keep  my  hearin'. 
I  never  did  want  to  farm  it,  but '  she '  always  took 
it  to  heart  when  I  was  off  on  a  v'y'ge,  and  this 
farm  and  some  considcr'ble  means  beside  come  to 
her  from  her  brother,  and  they  all  sot  to  and  give 
me  no  peace  of  mind  till  I  sold  out  my  share  of 
the  Ann  Eliza  and  come  ashore  for  good.  I  did 
keep  an  eighth  of  the  Pactolus,  and  I  was  ship's 
husband  for  a  long  spell,  but  she  never  was  heard 
from  on  her  last  voyage  to  Singapore.  I  was  the 
lonesomest  man,  when  I  first  come  ashore,  that 
ever  you  see.  Well,  you  are  master  hands  to  walk, 
if  you  come  way  up  from  the  Brandon  house.  I 
wish  the  women  was  at  home.  Know  Miss  Bran 
don  1  Why,  yes  ;  and  I  remember  all  her  brothers 
and  sisters,  and  her  father  and  mother.  I  can  see 


THE  CAPTAINS.  91 

'em  now  coming  into  meeting,  proud  as  Lucifer 
and  straight  as  a  mast,  every  one  of  'em.  Miss 
Katharine,  she  always  had  her  butter  from  this 
very  farm.  Some  of  the  folks  used  to  go  down 
every  Saturday,  and  my  wife,  she  's  been  in  the 
house  a  hundred  times,  I  s'pose.  So  you  are 
Hathaway  Brandon's  grand-daughter1?"  (to  Kate  ); 
"  why,  he  and  I  have  been  out  fishing  together 
many  's  the  time,  —  he  and  Chantrey,  his  next 
younger  brother.  Henry,  he  was  a  disapp'intment ; 
he  went  to  furrin  parts  and  turned  out  a  Catholic 
priest,  I  s'pose  you  've  heard  1  I  never  was  so  set 
ag'in  Mr.  Henry  as  some  folks  was.  He  was  the 
pleasantest  spoken  of  the  whole  on  'em.  You 
do  look  like  the  Brandons ;  you  really  favor  'em 
consider'ble.  Well,  I  'm  pleased  to  see  ye,  I  'm 
sure." 

We  asked  him  many  questions  about  the  old 
people,  and  found  he  knew  all  the  family  histories 
and  told  them  with  great  satisfaction.  We  found  he 
had  his  pet  stories,  and  it  must  have  been  gratify 
ing  to  have  an  entirely  new  and  fresh  audience. 
He  was  adroit  in  leading  the  conversation  around 
to  a  point  where  the  stories  would  come  in  appro 
priately,  and  we  helped  him  as  much  as  possible. 
In  a  small  neighborhood  all  the  people  know  each 


92  DEEPHA  YEN. 

other's  stories  and  experiences  by  heart,  and  I 
have  no  doubt  the  old  captain  had  been  snubbed 
many  times  on  beginning  a  favorite  anecdote. 
There  was  a  story  which  he  told  us  that  first  day, 
which  he  assured  us  was  strictly  true,  and  it  is 
certainly  a  remarkable  instance  of  the  influence  of 
one  mind  upon  another  at  a  distance.  It  seems  to 
me  worth  preserving,  at  any  rate  ;  and  as  we  heard 
it  from  the  old  man,  with  his  solemn  voice  and 
serious  expression  and  quaint  gestures,  it  was 
singularly  impressive. 

"  When  I  was  a  youngster,"  said  Captain  Lant, 
"  I  was  an  orphan,  and  I  was  bound  out  to  old  Mr. 
Peletiah  Daw's  folks,  over  on  the  Ridge  Road.  It 
was  in  the  time  of  the  last  war,  and  he  had  a 
nephew,  Ben  Dighton,  a  dreadful  high-strung,  wild 
fellow,  who  had  gone  off  on  a  privateer.  The  old 
man,  he  set  everything  by  Ben ;  he  would  dis 
oblige  his  own  boys  any  day  to  please  him.  This 
was  in  his  latter  days,  and  he  used  to  have  spells 
of  wandering  and  being  out  of  his  head ;  and  he 
used  to  call  for  Ben  and  talk  sort  of  foolish  about 
him,  till  they  would  tell  him  to  stop.  Ben  never 
did  a  stroke  of  work  for  him,  either,  but  he  was  a 
handsome  fellow,  and  had  a  way  with  him  when  he 
was  good-natui'ed.  One  night  old  Peletiah  had 


THE  CAPTAINS.  93 

been  very  bad  all  day  and  was  getting  quieted 
down,  and  it  was  after  supper ;  we  sat  round  in 
the  kitchen,  and  he  lay  in  the  bedroom  opening 
out.  There  were  some  pitch-knots  blazing,  and  the 
light  shone  in  on  the  bed,  and  all  of  a  sudden 
something  made  me  look  up  and  look  in  ;  and 
there  was  the  old  man  setting  up  straight,  with 
his  eyes  shining  at  me  like  a  cat's.  'Stop  'em  !' 
says  he  ;  '  stoj)  'em  ! '  and  his  two  sons  run  in  then 
to  catch  hold  of  him,  for  they  thought  he  was 
beginning  with  one  of  his  wild  spells ;  but  he  fell 
back  on  the  bed  and  began  to  cry  like  a  baby. 
'  0,  dear  me,'  says  he,  '  they  've  hung  him,  —  hung 
him  right  up  to  the  yard-arm  !  0,  they  ought  n't 
to  have  done  it ;  cut  him  down  quick  !  he  did  n't 
think ;  he  means  well,  Ben  does ;  he  was  hasty. 
0  my  God,  I  can't  bear  to  see  him  swing  round 
by  the  neck  !  It 's  poor  Ben  hung  up  to  the  yard- 
arm.  Let  me  alone,  I  say ! '  Andrew  and  Moses, 
they  were  holding  him  with  all  their  might,  and 
they  were  both  hearty  men,  but  he  'most  got  away 
from  them  once  or  twice,  and  he  screeched  and 
howled  like  a  mad  creatur',  and  then  he  would  cry 
again  like  a  child.  He  was  worn  out  after  a  while 
and  lay  back  quiet,  and  said  over  and  over,  '  Poor 
Ben  ! '  and  '  hung  at  the  yard-arm  ' ;  and  he  told 


94  DEEPHA  YEN. 

the  neighbors  next  day,  but  nobody  noticed  him 
much,  and  he  seemed  to  forget  it  as  his  mind  come 
back.  All  that  summer  he  was  miser'ble,  and 
towards  cold  weather  he  failed  right  along,  though 
he  had  been  a  master  strong  man  in  his  day,  and 
his  timbers  held  together  well.  Along  late  in  the 
fall  he  had  taken  to  his  bed,  and  one  day  there 
came  to  the  house  a  fellow  named  Sim  Decker,  a 
reckless  fellow  he  was  too,  who  had  gone  out  in 
the  same  ship  with  Ben.  He  pulled  a  long  face 
when  he  came  in,  and  said  he  had  brought  bad 
news.  They  had  been  taken  prisoner  and  carried 
into  port  and  put  in  jail,  and  Ben  Dighton  had  got 
a  fever  there  and  died. 

"  '  You  lie  ! '  says  the  old  man  from  the  bed 
room,  speaking  as  loud  and  f'erce  as  ever  you 
heard.  '  They  hung  him  to  the  yard-arm  ! ' 

"  '  Don't  mind  him,'  says  Andrew  ;  '  he  's  wan 
dering-like,  and  he  had  a  bad  dream  along  back  in 
the  spring  ;  I  s'posed  he  'd  forgotten  it.'  But  the 
Decker  fellow  he  turned  pale,  and  kept  talking 
crooked  while  he  listened  to  old  Peletiah  a-scold- 
ing  to  himself.  He  answered  the  questions  the 
women-folks  asked  him,  —  they  took  on  a  good 
deal,  —  but  pretty  soon  he  got  up  and  winked  to 
me  and  Andrew,  and  we  went  out  in  the  yard. 


THE  CAPTAINS.  95 

He  began  to  swear,  and  then  says  he,  '  When  did 
the  old  man  have  his  dream  ? '  Andrew  could  n't 
remember,  but  I  knew  it  was  the  night  before 
lie  sold  the  gray  colt,  and  that  was  the  24th  of 
April. 

"  '  Well,'  says  Sim  Decker,  '  on  the  twenty-third 
day  of  April  Ben  Dighton  was  hung  to  the  yard- 
arm,  and  I  see  'em  do  it,  Lord  help  him  !  I  did  n't 
mean  to  tell  the  women,  and  I  s'posed  you  'd  never 
know,  for  I  'm  all  the  one  of  the  ship's  company 
you  're  ever  likely  to  see.  We  were  taken  prisoner, 
and  Ben  was  mad  as  fire,  and  they  were  scared  of 
him  and  chained  him  to  the  deck  ;  and  while  he 
was  sulking  there,  a  little  parrot  of  a  midshipman 
come  up  and  grinned  at  him,  and  snapped  his 
fingers  in  his  face  ;  and  Ben  lifted  his  hands  with 
the  heavy  irons  and  sprung  at  him  like  a  tiger, 
and  the  boy  dropped  dead  as  a  stone  ;  and  they 
put  the  bight  of  a  rope  round  Ben's  neck  and  slung 
him  right  up  to  the  yard-arm,  and  there  he  swung 
back  and  forth  until  as  soon  as  we  dared  one  of  us 
clim'  up  and  cut  the  rope  and  let  him  go  over  the 
ship's  side  ;  and  they  put  us  in  irons  for  that,  curse 
'em  !  How  did  that  old  man  in  there  know,  and  he 
bedridden  here,  nigh  upon  three  thousand  miles 
off  ] '  says  he.  But  I  guess  there  was  n't  any  of  us 


96  DEEPHA  YEN. 

could  tell  him,"  said  Captain  Lant  in  conclusion. 
"  It 's  something  I  never  could  account  for,  but 
it 's  true  as  truth.  I  've  known  more  such  cases  ; 
some  folks  laughs  at  me  for  believing  'em,  —  '  the 
cap'n's  yarns,'  they  calls  'em,  —  but  if  you  '11 
notice,  everybody  's  got  some  yarn  of  that  kind 
they  do  believe,  if  they  won't  believe  yours.  And 
there  's  a  good  deal  happens  in  the  world  that 's 
myster'ous.  Now  there  was  Widder  Oliver  Pink- 
ham,  over  to  the  P'int,  told  me  with  her  own  lips 
that  she  —  "  But  just  here  we  saw  the  captain's 
expression  alter  suddenly,  and  looked  around  to 
see  a  wagon  coming  up  the  lane.  We  immediately 
said  we  must  go  home,  for  it  was  growing  late, 
but  asked  permission  to  come  again  and  hear  the 
Widow  Oliver  Piukham  stor}T.  We  stopped,  how 
ever,  to  see  "the  women-folks,"  and  afterward 
became  so  intimate  with  them  that  we  were  in 
vited  to  spend  the  afternoon  and  take  tea,  which 
invitation  we  accepted  with  great  pride.  We  went 
out  fishing,  also,  with  the  captain  and  "  Danny," 
of  whom  I  will  tell  you  preseutly.  I  often  think 
of  Captain  Lant  in  the  winter,  for  he  told  Kate 
once  that  he  "  felt  master  old  in  winter  to  what  he 
did  in  summer."  He  likes  reading,  fortunately, 
and  we  had  a  letter  from  him,  not  long  ago,  ac- 


THE  CAPTAINS.  97 

knowledging  the  receipt  of  some  books  of  travel 
by  land  and  water  which  we  had  luckily  thought 
to  send  him.  He  gave  the  latitude  and  longitude 
of  Deephaven  at  the  beginning  of  his  letter,  and 
signed  himself,  "  Respectfully  yours  with  esteem, 
Jacob  Lant  (condemned  as  unseaworthy)." 


DANNY. 


EEPHAVEN  seemed  more  like  one  of  the 
lazy  little  English  seaside  towns  than 
any  other.  It  was  not  in  the  least 
American.  There  was  no  excitement  about  any 
thing  ;  there  were  no  manufactories;  nobody  seemed 
in  the  least  hurry.  The  only  foreigners  were  a 
few  stranded  sailors.  I  do  not  know  when  a  house 
or  a  new  building  of  any  kind  had  been  built ;  the 
men  were  farmers,  or  went  outward  in  boats,  or 
inward  in  fish-wagons,  or  sometimes  mackerel  and 
halibut  fishing  in  schooners  for  the  city  markets. 
Sometimes  a  schooner  came  to  one  of  the  wharves 
to  load  with  hay  or  firewood ;  but  Deephaven 
used  to  be  a  town  of  note,  rich  and  busy,  as  its 
forsaken  warehouses  show. 

We  knew  almost  all  the  fisher-people  at  the 
shore,  even  old  Dinnett,  who  lived  an  apparently 
desolate  life  by  himself  in  a  hut  and  was  reputed 
to  have  been  a  bloodthirsty  pirate  in  his  youth. 


DANNY.  99 

He  was  consequently  feared  by  all  the  children, 
and  for  misdemeanors  in  his  latter  days  avoided 
generally.  Kate  talked  with  him  awhile  one  day 
on  the  shore,  and  made  him  come  up  with  her  for 
a  bandage  for  his  hand  which  she  saw  he  had  hurt 
badly  ;  and  the  next  morning  he  brought  us  a 
"  new  "  lobster  apiece,  —  fishermen  mean  that  a 
thing  is  only  not  salted  when  they  say  it  is  "fresh." 
We  happened  to  be  in  the  hall,  and  received  him 
ourselves,  and  gave  him  a  great  piece  of  tobacco 
and  (unintentionally)  the  means  of  drinking  our 
health.  "  Bless  your  pretty  hearts  ! "  said  he  ; 
"  may  ye  be  happy,  and  live  long,  and  get  good 
husbands,  and  if  they  ain't  good  to  you  may  they 
die  from  you  !  " 

None  of  our  friends  were  more  interesting  than, 
the  fishermen.  The  fish-houses,  which  might  be 
called  the  business  centre  of  the  town,  were  at  a 
little  distance  from  the  old  warehouses,  farther 
down  the  harbor  shore,  and  were  ready  to  fall 
down  in  despair.  There  were  some  fishermen  who 
lived  near  by,  but  most  of  them  were  also  farmers 
in  a  small  way,  and  lived  in  the  village  or  farther 
inland.  From  our  eastern  windows  we  could  see 
the  moorings,  and  we  always  liked  to  watch  the 
boats  go  out  or  come  straying  in,  one  after  the 


100  DEEP II A  YEN. 

other,  tipping  and  skimming  under  the  square 
little  sails ;  and  we  often  went  down  to  the  fish- 
houses  to  see  what  kind  of  a  catch  there  had 
been. 

I  should  have  imagined  that  the  sea  would 
become  very  commonplace  to  men  whose  business 
was  carried  on  in  boats,  and  who  had  spent  night 
after  night  and  day  after  day  from  their  boyhood 
on  the  water  ;  but  that  is  a  mistake.  They  have 
au  awe  of  the  sea  and  of  its  mysteries,  and  of  what 
it  hides  away  from  us.  They  are  childish  in  their 
wonder  at  any  strange  creature  which  they  find. 
If  they  have  not  seen  the  sea-serpent,  they  believe, 
I  am  sure,  that  other  people  have,  and  when  a  great 
shark  or  black-fish  or  sword-fish  was  taken  and 
brought  in  shore,  everybody  went  to  see  it,  and 
we  talked  about  it,  and  how  brave  its  conqueror 
was,  and  what  a  fight  there  had  been,  for  a  long 
time  afterward. 

I  said  that  we  liked  to  see  the  boats  go  out,  but 
I  must  not  give  you  the  impression  that  we  saw 
them  often,  for  they  weighed  anchor  at  an  early 
hour  in  the  morning.  I  remember  once  there  was 
a  light  fog  over  the  sea,  lifting  fast,  as  the  sun 
was  coming  up,  and  the  brownish  sails  disappeared 
in  the  mist,  while  voices  could  still  be  heard 


DANNY.  101 

for  some  minutes  after  the  men  were  hidden  from 
sight.  This  gave  one  a  curious  feeling,  but  after 
ward,  when  the  sun  had  risen,  everything  looked 
much  the  same  as  usual ;  the  fog  had  gone,  and 
the  dories  and  even  the  larger  boats  were  distant 
specks  on  the  sparkling  sea. 

One  afternoon  we  made  a  new  acquaintance  in 
this  wise.  We  went  down  to  the  shore  to  see  if 
we  could  hire  a  conveyance  to  the  lighthouse  the 
next  morning.  We  often  went  out  early  in  one  of 
the  fishing-boats,  and  after  we  had  stayed  as  long  as 
we  pleased,  Mr.  Kew  would  bring  us  home.  It  was 
quiet  enough  that  day,  for  not  a  single  boat  had 
come  in,  and  there  were  no  men  to  be  seen  along 
shore.  There  was  a  salemn  company  of  lobster- 
coops  or  cages  which  had  been  brought  in  to  be 
mended.  They  always  amused  Kate.  She  said 
they  seemed  to  her  like  droll  old  women  telling 
each  other  secrets.  These  were  scattered  about  in 
different  attitudes,  and  looked  more  confidential 
than  usual. 

Just  as  we  were  going  away  we  happened  to  see 
a  man  at  work  in  one  of  the  sheds.  He  was  the 
fisherman  whom  we  knew  least  of  all;  an  odd-look 
ing,  silent  sort  of  man,  more  sunburnt  and  weather- 
beaten  than  any  of  the  others.  We  had  learned 


102  DEEPUAVEN. 

to  know  him  by  the  bright  red  flannel  shirt  he 
always  wore,  and  besides,  he  was  lame ;  some  one 
told  us  he  had  had  a  bad  fall  once,  on  board  ship. 
Kate  and  I  had  always  wished  we  could  find  a 
chance  to  talk  with  him.  He  looked  up  at  us 
pleasantly,  and  when  we  nodded  and  smiled,  he  said 
"  Good  day  "  in  a  gruff,  hearty  voice,  and  went  on 
with  his  work,  cleaning  mackerel. 

"Do  you  mind  our  watching  you]  "  asked  Kate. 

"  No,  ma'am  !  "  said  the  fisherman  emphatically. 
So  there  we  stood. 

Those  fish-houses  were  curious  places,  so  differ 
ent  from  any  other  kind  of  workshop.  In  this 
there  was  a  seine,  or  part  of  one,  festooned  among 
the  cross-beams  overhead,  and  there  were  snarled 
fishing-lines,  and  barrows  to  carry  fish  in,  like 
wheelbarrows  without  wheels ;  there  were  the 
queer  round  lobster-nets,  and  "  kits  "  of  salt  mack 
erel,  tubs  of  bait,  aud  piles  of  clams ;  and  some 
queer  bones,  and  parts  of  remarkable  fish,  and 
lobster-claws  of  surprising  size  fastened  on  the 
walls  for  ornament.  There  was  a  pile  of  rubbish 
down  at  the  end;  I  dare  say  it  was  all  useful,  how 
ever,  —  there  is  such  mystery  about  the  business. 

Kate  and  I  were  never  tired  of  hearing  of  the 
fish  that  come  at  different  times  of  the  year,  and 


DANNY.  103 

go  away  again,  like  the  birds ;  or  of  the  actions 
of  the  dog-fish,  which  the  'longshore-men  hate  so 
bitterly  ;  and  then  there  are  such  curious  legends 
and  traditions,  of  which  almost  all  fishermen  have 


"I  think  mackerel  are  the  prettiest  fish  that 
swim,"  said  I  presently. 

"  So  do  I,  miss,"  said  the  man,  "  not  to  say  but 
I  've  seen  more  fancy -looking  fish  down  in  southern 
waters,  bright  as  any  flower  you  ever  see  ;  but 
a  mackerel,"  holding  up  one  admiringly,  "  why, 
they  're  so  clean-built  and  trig-looking  !  Put  a 
cod  alongside,  and  he  looks  as  lumbering  as  an 
old-fashioned  Dutch  brig  aside  a  yacht. 

"  Those  are  good-looking  fish,  but  they  an't 
made  much  account  of,"  continued  our  friend,  as 
he  pushed  aside  the  mackerel  and  took  another 
tub.  "  They  're  hake,  I  s'pose  you  know.  But  I 
forgot,  —  I  can't  stop  to  bother  with  them  now." 
And  he  pulled  forward  a  barrow  full  of  small  fish, 
flat  and  hard,  with  pointed,  bony  heads. 

"  Those  are  porgies,  are  n't  they  ] "  asked  Kate. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  man,  "an"  I  'm  going  to  sliver 
them  for  the  trawls." 

We  knew  what  the  trawls  were,  and  supposed 
that  the  porgies  were  to  be  used  for  bait ;  and  we 


104  DEEPHAVEN. 

soon  found  out  what  "  slivering  "  meant,  by  see 
ing  him  take  them  by  the  head  and  cut  a  slice 
from  first  one  side  and  then  the  other  in  such  a 
way  that  the  pieces  looked  not  unlike  smaller  fish. 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  said  I,  "  that  fishermen  al 
ways  have  sharper  knives  than  other  people." 

"  Yes,  we  do  like  a  sharp  knife  in  our  trade ; 
and  then  we  are  mostly  strong-handed." 

He  was  throwing  the  porgies'  heads  and  back 
bones  —  all  that  was  left  of  them  after  slivering — 
in  a  heap,  and  now  several  cats  walked  in  as  if 
they  felt  at  home,  and  began  a  hearty  lunch. 
"  What  a  troop  of  pussies  there  is  round  here," 
said  I ;  "  I  wonder  what  will  become  of  them  in 
the  winter,  —  though,  to  be  sure,  the  fishing  goes 
on  just  the  same." 

"  The  better  part  of  them  don't  get  through  the 
cold  weather,"  said  Danny.  "  Two  or  three  of  the 
old  ones  have  been  here  for  years,  and  are  as  much 
belonging  to  Deephaven  as  the  meetin'-house;  but 
the  rest  of  them  an't  to  be  depended  on.  You  '11 
miss  the  young  ones  by  the  dozen,  come  spring. 
I  don't  know  myself  but  they  move  inland  in  the 
fall  of  the  year;  they  're  knowing  enough,  if  that 's 
all  ! " 

Kate  and  I  stood  in  the  wide  doorway,  arm  in 


DANNY.  105 

arm,  looking  sometimes  at  the  queer  fisherman 
and  the  porgies,  and  sometimes  out  to  sea.  It 
was  low  tide  ;  the  wind  had  risen  a  little,  and  the 
heavy  salt  air  blew  toward  us  from  the  wet  brown 
ledges  in  the  rocky  harbor.  The  sea  was  bright 
blue,  and  the  sun  was  shining.  Two  gulls  were 
swinging  lazily  to  and  fro  ;  there  was  a  flock  of 
'  sand-pipers  down  by  the  water's  edge,  in  a  great 
hurry,  as  usual. 

Presently  the  fisherman  spoke  again,  beginning 
with  an  odd  laugh  :  "  I  was  soared  last  winter ! 
Jack  Scudder  and  me,  we  were  up  in  the  Cap'n 
Manning  storehouse  hunting  for  a  half-bar'l  of 
salt  the  skipper  said  was  there.  It  was  an  awful 
blustering  kind  of  day,  with  a  thin  icy  rain  blow 
ing  from  all  points  at  once  ;  sea  roaring  as  if  it 
wished  it  could  come  ashore  and  put  a  stop  to 
everything.  Bad  days  at  sea,  them  are ;  rigging 
all  froze  up.  As  I  was  saying,  we  were  hunting 
tor  a  half-bar'l  of  salt,  and  I  laid  hold  of  a  bar'l 
that  had  something  heavy  in  the  bottom,  and 
tilted  it  up,  and  my  eye !  there  was  a  stir  and  a 
scratch  and  a  squeal,  and  out  went  some  kind  of 
a  creatur',  and  I  jumped  back,  not  looking  for 
anything  live,  but  I  see  in  a  minute  it  was  a 
cat ;  and  perhaps  you  think  it  is  a  big  story,  but 


106  DEEP  HA  VEN. 

there  were  eight  more  in  there,  hived  in  together 
to  keep  warm.  I  car'd  'em  up  some  new  fish 
that  night ;  they  seemed  short  of  provisions.  We 
had  n't  been  out  fishing  as  much  as  common,  and 
they  had  n't  dared  to  be  round  the  fish-houses 
much,  for  a  fellow  who  came  in  on  a  coaster  had 
a  dog,  and  he  used  to  chase  'em.  Hard  chance 
they  had,  and  lots  of  'em  died,  I  guess ;  but 
there  seem  to  be  some  survivin'  relatives,  an' 
al'ays  just  so  hungry !  I  used  to  feed  them  some 
when  I  was  ashore.  I  think  likely  you  've  heard 
that  a  cat  will  fetch  you  bad  luck ;  but  I  don't 
know 's  that  made  much  difference  to  me.  I  kind 
of  like  to  keep  on  the  right  side  of  'em,  too  ;  if 
ever  I  have  a  bad  dream  there  's  sure  to  be  a  cat 
in  it ;  but  I  was  brought  up  to  be  clever  to  dumb 
beasts,  an'  I  guess  it 's  my  natur'.  Except  fish," 
said  Danny  after  a  minute's  thought ;  "  but  then 
it  never  seems  like  they  had  feelin's  like  creatur's 
that  live  ashore."  And  we  all  laughed  heartily 
and  felt  well  acquainted. 

"  I  s'pose  you  misses  will  laugh  if  I  tell  ye  I 
kept  a  kitty  once  myself."  This  was  said  rather 
shyly,  and  there  was  evidently  a  story,  so  we  were 
much  interested,  and  Kate  said,  "  Please  tell  us 
about  it ;  was  it  at  sea  ]  " 


DANNY.  107 

"  Yes,  it  was  at  sea  ;  leastways,  on  a  coaster.  I 
got  her  in  a  sing'lar  kind  of  way :  it  was  one  after 
noon  we  were  lying  alongside  Charlestown  Bridge, 
and  I  heard  a  young  cat  screeching  real  pitiful ; 
and  after  I  looked  all  round,  I  see  her  in  the  water 
clutching  on  to  the  pier  of  the  bridge,  and  some 
little  divils  of  boys  were  heaving  rocks  down  at 
her.  I  got  into  the  schooner's  tag-boat  quick,  I 
tell  ye,  and  pushed  off  for  her,  'n'  she  let  go  just 
as  I  got  there,  'n'  I  guess  you  never  saw  a  more 
miser'ble-looking  creatur'  than  I  fished  out  of  the 
water.  Cold  weather  it  was.  Her  leg  was  hurt, 
and  her  eye,  and  I  thought  first  I  'd  drop  her  over 
board  again,  and  then  I  did  n't,  and  I  took  her 
aboard  the  schooner  and  put  her  by  the  stove.  I 
thought  she  might  as  well  die  where  it  was  warm. 
She  eat  a  little  mite  of  chowder  before  night,  but 
she  was  very  slim ;  but  next  morning,  when  I 
went  to  see  if  she  was  dead,  she  fell  to  licking  my 
finger,  and  she  did  purr  away  like  a  dolphin.  One 
of  her  eyes  was  out,  where  a  stone  had  took  her, 
and  she  never  got  any  use  of  it,  but  she  used  to 
look  at  you  so  clever  with  the  other,  and  she  got 
well  of  her  lame  foot  after  a  while.  I  got  to  be 
tcr'ble  fond  of  her.  She  was  just  the  knowingest 
thing  you  ever  saw,  and  she  used  to  sleep  along- 


108  DEEPHAVEN. 

side  of  me  in  my  bunk,  and  like  as  not  she  would 
go  on  deck  with  me  when  it  was  my  watch.  I 
was  coasting  then  for  a  year  and  eight  months, 
and  I  kept  her  all  the  time.  We  used  to  be  in 
harbor  consider'ble,  and  about  eight  o'clock  in  the 
forenoon  I  used  to  drop  a  line  and  catch  her  a 
couple  of  dinners.  Now,  it  is  cur'us  that  she 
used  to  know  when  I  was  fishing  for  her.  She 
would  pounce  on  them  fish  and  carry  them  off  and 
growl,  and  she  knew  when  I  got  a  bite,  —  she  'd 
watch  the  line ;  but  when  we  were  mackereling 
she  never  give  us  any  trouble.  She  would  never 
lift  a  paw  to  touch  any  of  our  fish.  She  did  n't 
have  the  thieving  ways  common  to  most  cats. 
She  used  to  set  round  on  deck  in  fair  weather, 
and  when  the  wind  blew  she  al'ays  kept  herself 
below.  Sometimes  when  we  were  in  port  she 
would  go  ashore  awhile,  and  fetch  back  a  bird  or 
a  mouse,  but  she  would  n't  eat  it  till  she  come  and 
showed  it  to  me.  She  never  wanted  to  stop  long 
ashore,  though  I  never  shut  her  up;  I  always  give 
her  her  liberty.  I  got  a  good  deal  of  joking  about 
her  from  the  fellows,  but  she  was  a  sight  of  com 
pany.  I  don'  know  as  I  ever  had  anything  like 
me  as  much  as  she  did.  Not  to  say  as  I  ever 
had  much  of  any  trouble  with  anybody,  ashore  or 


DANNY.  109 

afloat.  I  'm  a  still  kind  of  fellow,  for  all  I  look  so 
rough. 

"  But  then,  I  han't  had  a  home,  what  I  call  a 
home,  since  I  was  going  on  nine  year  old." 

"  How  has  that  happened  ] "  asked  Kate. 

"  Well,  mother,  she  died,  and  I  was  bound  out 
to  a  man  in  the  tanning  trade,  and  I  hated  him, 
and  I  hated  the  trade ;  and  when  1  was  a  little 
bigger  I  ran  away,  and  I  've  followed  the  sea  ever 
since.  I  was  n't  much  use  to  him,  I  guess  ;  least 
ways,  he  never  took  the  trouble  to  hunt  me  up. 

"  About  the  best  place  I  ever  was  in  was  a 
hospital.  It  was  in  foreign  parts.  Ye  see  I  'm 
crippled  some  ?  I  fell  from  the  topsail  yard  to  the 
deck,  and  I  struck  my  shoulder,  and  broke  my 
leg,  and  banged  myself  all  up.  It  was  to  a  nuns' 
hospital  where  they  took  me.  All  of  the  nuns 
were  Catholics,  and  they  wore  big  white  things  on 
their  heads.  I  don't  suppose  you  ever  saw  any. 
Have  you  1  Well,  now,  that 's  queer !  When  I 
was  first  there  I  was  scared  of  them ;  they  were 
real  ladies,  and  I  was  n't  used  to  being  in  a  house, 
any  way.  One  of  them,  that  took  care  of  me  most 
of  the  time,  why,  she  would  even  set  up  half  the 
night  with  me,  and  I  could  n't  begin  to  tell  you 
how  good-natured  she  was,  an'  she  'd  look  real 


110  DEEP  HAVEN. 

sorry  too.  I  used  to  be  ugly,  I  ached  so,  along  in 
the  first  of  my  being  there,  but  I  spoke  of  it  when 
I  was  coming  away,  and  she  said  it  was  all  right. 
She  used  to  feed  me,  that  lady  did ;  and  there 
were  some  days  I  could  n't  lift  my  head,  and  she 
would  rise  it  on  her  arm.  She  give  me  a  little 
mite  of  a  book,  when  I  come  away.  I  'm  not  much 
of  a  hand  at  reading,  but  I  always  kept  it  on  ac 
count  of  her.  She  was  so  pleased  when  I  got  so  's 
to  set  up  in  a  chair  and  look  out  of  the  window. 
She  was  n't  much  of  a  hand  to  talk  English.  I 
did  feel  bad  to  come  away  from  there  ;  I  'most 
wished  I  could  be  sick  a  while  longer.  I  never 
said  much  of  anything  either,  and  I  don't  know 
but  she  thought  it  was  queer,  but  I  am  a  dreadful 
clumsy  man  to  say  anything,  and  I  got  flustered. 
I  don't  know  's  I  mind  telling  you  ;  I  was  'most 
a-cryiug.  I  used  to  think  I  'd  lay  by  some  money 
and  ship  for  there  and  carry  her  something  real 
pretty.  But  I  don't  rank  able-bodied  seaman  like 
I  used,  and  it 's  as  much  as  1  can  do  to  get  a  berth 
on  a  coaster ;  I  suppose  I  might  go  as  cook.  I 
liked  to  have  died  with  my  hurt  at  that  hospital, 
but  when  I  was  getting  well  it  made  me  think  of 
when  I  was  a  mite  of  a  chap  to  home  before  mother 
died,  to  be  laying  there  in  a  clean  bed  with  some- 


DANNY.  Ill 

body  to  do  for  me.  Guess  you  think  I  'm  a  good 
hand  to  spin  long  yarns ;  somehow  it  comes  easy 
to  talk  to-day." 

"  What  became  of  your  cat  ] "  asked  Kate,  after 
a  pause,  during  which  our  friend  sliced  away  at 
the  porgics. 

"  I  never  rightfully  knew  ;  it  was  in  Salem  har 
bor,  and  a  windy  night.  I  was  on  deck  con- 
sider'ble,  for  the  schooner  pitched  lively,  and  once 
or  twice  she  dragged  her  anchor.  I  never  saw  the 
kitty  after  she  eat  her  supper.  I  remember  I  gave 
her  some  milk,  —  I  used  to  buy  her  a  pint  once  in 
a  while  for  a  treat ;  I  don't  know  but  she  might 
have  gone  off  on  a  cake  of  ice,  but  it  did  seem  as 
if  she  had  too  much  sense  for  that.  Most  likely 
she  missed  her  footing,  and  fell  overboard  in  the 
dark.  She  was  marked  real  pretty,  black  and 
white,  and  kep'  herself  just  as  clean  !  She  knew 
as  well  as  could  be  when  foul  weather  was  coming  ; 
she  would  bother  round  and  act  queer  ;  but  when 
the  sun  was  out  she  would  sit  round  on  deck  as 
pleased  as  a  queen.  There  !  I  feel  bad  sometimes 
when  I  think  of  her,  and  I  never  went  into  Salem 
since  without  hoping  that  I  should  see  her.  I 
don't  know  but  if  I  was  a-going  to  begin  my  life 
over  again,  I  'd  settle  down  ashore  and  have  a  snug 


112  DEEPHAVEN. 

little  house  and  farm  it.  But  I  guess  I  shall  do 
better  at  fishing.  Give  me  a  trig-built  topsail 
schooner  painted  up  nice,  with  a  stripe  on  her, 
and  clean  sails,  and  a  fresh  wind  with  the  sun  a- 
shining,  and  I  feel  first-rate." 

"  Do  you  believe  that  codfish  swallow  stones 
before  a  storm  1 "  asked  Kate.  I  had  been  think 
ing  about  the  lonely  fisherman  in  a  sentimental 
way,  and  so  irrelevant  a  question  shocked  me.  "  I 
saw  he  felt  slightly  embarrassed  at  having  talked 
about  his  affairs  so  much,"  Kate  told  me  after 
ward,  "and  I  thought  we  should  leave  him  feeling 
more  at  his  ease  if  we  talked  about  fish  for  a 
while."  And  sure  enough  he  did  seem  relieved, 
and  gave  us  his  opinion  about  the  codfish  at  once, 
adding  that  he  never  cared  much  for  cod  any  way  ; 
folks  up  country  bought  'em  a  good  deal,  he  heard. 
Give  him  a  haddock  right  out  of  the  water  for  his 
dinner ! 

"  I  never  can  remember,"  said  Kate,  "  whether 
it  is  cod  or  haddock  that  have  a  black  stripe  along 
their  sides  — 

"  0,  those  are  haddock,"  said  I ;  "  they  say  that 
the  Devil  caught  a  haddock  once,  and  it  slipped 
through  his  fingers  and  got  scorched  ;  so  all  the 
haddock  had  the  same  mark  afterward." 


DANNY.  113 

"  Well,  now,  how  did  you  know  that  old  story  1 " 
said  Danny,  laughing  heartily;  "  ye  must  n't  believe 
all  the  old  stories  ye  hear,  mind  ye  ! " 

"  0,  no,"  said  we. 

"  Hullo  !  There  's  Jim  Toggerson's  boat  close 
in  shore.  She  sets  low  in  the  water,  so  he  's  done 
well.  He  and  Skipper  Scudder  have  been  out 
deep-sea  fishing  since  yesterday." 

Our  friend  pushed  the  porgies  back  into  a  cor 
ner,  stuck  his  knife  into  a  beam,  and  we  hurried 
down  to  the  shore.  Kate  and  I  sat  on  the  peb 
bles,  and  he  went  out  to  the  moorings  in  a  dirty 
dory  to  help  unload  the  fish. 

We  afterward  saw  a  great  deal  of  Danny,  as  all 
the  men  called  him.  But  though  Kate  and  I  tried 
our  best  and  used  our  utmost  skill  and  tact  to 
make  him  tell  us  more  about  himself,  he  never 
did.  But  perhaps  there  was  nothing  more  to  be 
told. 

The  day  we  left  Deephaven  we  went  down  to 
the  shore  to  say  good  by  to  him  and  to  some  other 
friends,  and  he  said,  "  Goin',  are  ye  ?  Well,  I  'm 
sorry  ;  ye  've  treated  me  first-rate  ;  the  Lord  bless 
ye  !  "  and  then  was  so  much  mortified  at  the  way 
he  had  said  farewell  that  he  turned  and  fled  round 
the  corner  of  the  fish-house. 


CAPTAIN  SANDS. 


LD  Captain  Sands  was  one  of  the  most 
prominent  citizens  of  Deephaven,  and  a 
very  good  friend  of  Kate's  and  mine. 
We  often  met  him,  and  grew  much  interested  in 
him  before  we  knew  him  well.  He  had  a  reputa 
tion  in  town  for  being  peculiar  and  somewhat  vision 
ary  ;  but  every  one  seemed  to  like  him,  and  at  last 
one  morning,  when  we  happened  to  be  on  our  way 
to  the  wharves,  we  stopped  at  the  door  of  an  old 
warehouse  which  we  had  never  seen  opened  before. 
Captain  Sands  sat  just  inside,  smoking  his  pipe, 
and  we  said  good  morning,  and  asked  him  if  he 
did  not  think  there  was  a  fog  coming  in  by  and  by. 
We  had  thought  a  little  of  going  out  to  the  light- 
hoiise.  The  cap'n  rose  slowly,  and  came  out  so  that 
he  could  see  farther  round  to  the  east.  "  There 's 
some  scud  coming  in  a'ready,"  said  he.  "  None 
to  speak  of  yet,  I  don't  know 's  you  can  see  it,  — 
yes,  you  're  right ;  there  's  a  heavy  bank  of  fog 


CAPTAIN  SANDS.  115 

lyin'  off,  but  it  won't  be  in  under  two  or  three 
hours  yet,  unless  the  wind  backs  round  more  and 
freshens  up.  Were  n't  thinking  of  going  out,  were 

ye?" 

"  A  little,"  said  Kate,  "but  we  had  nearly  given 
it  up.  We  are  getting  to  be  very  weather-wise, 
and  we  pride  ourselves  on  being  quick  at  seeing 
fogs."  At  which  the  cap'n  smiled  and  said  we  were 
consider'ble  young  to  know  much  about  weather, 
but  it  looked  well  that  we  took  some  interest  in 
it ;  most  young  people  were  fools  about  weather, 
and  would  just  as  soon  set  off  to  go  anywhere  right 
under  the  edge  of  a  thunder-shower.  "  Come  in 
and  set  down,  won't  ye  ] "  he  added  ;  "  it  ain't 
much  of  a  place  ;  I  've  got  a  lot  of  old  stuff  stowed 
away  here  that  the  women-folks  don't  want  up  to 
the  house.  I  'm  a  great  hand  for  keeping  things." 
And  he  looked  round  fondly  at  the  contents  of  the 
wide  low  room.  "  I  come  down  here  once  in  a 
while  and  let  in  the  sun,  and  sometimes  I  want  to 
hunt  up  something  or  'nother ;  kind  of  stow-away 
place,  ye  see."  And  then  he  laughed  apologetically, 
rubbing  his  hands  together,  and  looking  out  to 
sea  again  as  if  he  wished  to  appear  unconcerned  ; 
yet  we  saw  that  he  wondered  if  we  thought  it 
ridiculous  for  a  man  of  his  age  to  have  treasured 


116  DEEPHAVEN. 

up  so  much  trumpery  in  that  cobwebby  place. 
There  were  some  whole  oars  and  the  sail  of  his 
boat  and  two  or  three  killicks  and  painters,  not  to 
forget  a  heap  of  worn-out  oars  and  sails  in  one 
corner  and  a  sailor's  hammock  slung  across  the 
beam  overhead,  and  there  were  some  sailor's  chests 
and  the  capstan  of  a  ship  and  innumerable  boxes 
which  all  seemed  to  be  stuffed  full,  besides  no  end 
of  things  lying  on  the  floor  and  packed  away  on 
shelves  and  hanging  to  rusty  big-headed  nails  in 
the  wall.  I  saw  some  great  lumps  of  coral,  and 
large,  rough  shells,  a  great  hornet's  nest,  and  a 
monstrous  lobster-shell.  The  cap'n  had  cobbled 
and  tied  up  some  remarkable  old  chairs  for  the 
accommodation  of  himself  and  his  friends. 

"  What  a  nice  place  ! "  said  Kate  in  a  frank, 
delighted  way  which  could  not  have  failed  to  be 
gratifying. 

"  Well,  no,"  said  the  cap'n,  with  his  slow  smile, 
"  it  ain't  what  you  'd  rightly  call  'nice,'  as  I  know 
of :  it  ain't  never  been  cleared  out  all  at  once  since 
I  began  putting  in.  There  's  nothing  that  's 
worth  anything,  either,  to  anybody  but  me.  Wife, 
she  's  said  to  me  a  hundred  times,  '  Why  don't 
you  overhaul  them  old  things  and  burn  'em  ? ' 
She 's  al'ays  at  me  about  letting  the  property,  as 


CAPTAIN  SANDS.  117 

if  it  were  a  corner-lot  in  Broadway.  That's  all 
women-folks  know  about  business  !  "  And  here  the 
captain  caught  himself  tripping,  and  looked  uneasy 
for  a  minute.  "  I  suppose  I  might  have  let  it  for 
a  fish-house,  but  it 's  most  too  far  from  the  shore 
to  be  handy  —  and  —  well  —  there  are  some 
things  here  that  I  set  a  good  deal  by." 

"  Is  n't  that  a  sword-fish's  sword  in  that  piece 
of  wood  1 "  Kate  asked  presently ;  and  was  an 
swered  that  it  was  found  broken  off  as  we  saw 
it,  in  the  hull  of  a  wreck  that  went  ashore  on. 
Blue  P'int  when  the  captain  was  a  young  man, 
and  he  had  sawed  it  out  and  kept  it  ever  since, 
—  fifty-nine  years.  Of  course  we  went  closer  to 
look  at  it,  and  we  both  felt  a  great  sympathy  for 
this  friend  of  ours,  because  we  have  the  same 
fashion  of  keeping  worthless  treasures,  and  we  un 
derstood  perfectly  how  dear  such  things  may  be. 

"  Do  you  mind  if  we  look  round  a  little  1 "  I 
asked  doubtfully,  for  I  knew  how  I  should  hate 
having  strangers  look  over  my  own  treasury.  But 
Captain  Sands  looked  pleased  at  our  interest,  and 
said  cheerfully  that  we  might  overhaul  as  much 
as  we  chose.  Kate  discovered  first  an  old  battered 
wooden  figure-head  of  a  ship,  —  a  woman's  head 
with  long  curly  hair  falling  over  the  shoulders. 


118  DEEPHAVEX. 

The  paint  was  almost  gone,  and  the  dust  covered 
most  of  what  was  left :  still  there  was  a  wonderful 
spirit  and  grace,  and  a  wild,  weird  beauty  which 
attracted  us  exceedingly  ;  but  the  captain  could 
only  tell  us  that  it  had  belonged  to  the  wreck  of 
a  Danish  brig  which  had  been  driven  on  the  reef 
where  the  lighthouse  stands  now,  and  his  father 
had  found  this  on  the  long  sands  a  day  or  two 
afterward.  "  That  was  a  dreadful  storm,"  said 
the  captain.  "  I  've  heai-d  the  old  folks  tell  about 
it ;  it  was  when  I  was  only  a  year  or  two  old. 
There  were  three  merchantmen  wrecked  within 
five  miles  of  Deephaven.  This  one  was  all  stove 
to  splinters,  and  they  used  to  say  she  had  treasure 
aboard.  When  I  was  small  I  used  to  have  a  great 
idea  of  going  out  there  to  the  rocks  at  low  water 
and  trying  to  find  some  gold,  but  I  never  made 
out  no  great."  And  he  smiled  indulgently  at  the 
thought  of  his  youthful  dream. 

"  Kate,'1  said  I,  "  do  you  see  what  beauties  these 
Turk's-head  knots  are  1 "  We  had  been  taking  a 
course  of  first  lessons  in  knots  from  Danny,  and 
had  followed  by  learning  some  charmingly  intri 
cate  ones  from  Captain  Lant,  the  stranded  mariner 
who  lived  on  a  farm  two  miles  or  so  inland.  Kate 
came  over  to  look  at  the  Turk's-heads,  which  were 


CAPTAIN  SANDS.  119 

at  either  end  of  the  rope  handles  of  a  little  dark- 
blue  chest. 

Captain  Sands  turned  in  his  chair  and  nodded 
approval.  "  That 's  a  neat  piece  of  work,  and  it 
was  a  first-rate  seaman  who  did  it ;  he  's  dead  and 
gone  years  ago,  poor  young  fellow  ;  an  I-talian 
he  was,  who  sailed  on  the  Ranger  three  or  four 
long  voyages.  He  fell  from  the  mast-head  on  the 
voyage  home  from  Callao.  Cap'n  Manning  and 
old  Mr.  Lorimer,  they  owned  the  Ranger,  and 
when  she  come  into  port  and  they  got  the  news 
they  took  it  as  much  to  heart  as  if  he  'd  been 
some  relation.  He  was  smart  as  a  whip,  and  had 
a  way  with  him,  and  the  pleasantest  kind  of  a 
voice  ;  you  couldn't  help  liking  him.  They  found 
out  that  he  had  a  mother  alive  in  Port  Mahon, 
and  they  sent  his  pay  and  some  money  he  had  in 
the  bank  at  Riverport  out  to  her  by  a  ship  that 
was  going  to  the  Mediterranean.  He  had  some 
clothes  in  his  chest,  and  they  sold  those  and  sent 
her  the  money,  —  all  but  some  trinkets  they  sup 
posed  he  was  keeping  for  her ;  I  rec'lect  he  used 
to  speak  conoider'ble  about  his  mother.  I  shipped 
one  v'y'ge  with  him  before  the  mast,  before  I  went 
out  mate  of  the  Daylight.  I  happened  to  be  in 
port  the  time  the  Ranger  got  in,  an'  I  see  this  chist 


120  DEEPHAVEN. 

lying  round  in  Cap'n  Manning's  storehouse,  and  I 
offered  to  give  him  what  it  was  worth  ;  but  we  was 
good  friends,  and  he  told  me  take  it  if  I  wanted  it, 
it  was  no  use  to  him,  and  I  've  kept  it  ever  since. 

"There  are  some  of  his  traps  in  it  now,  I  believe; 
ye  can  look."  And  we  took  off'  some  tangled  cod- 
lines  and  opened  the  chest.  There  was  only  a  round 
wooden  box  in  the  till,  and  in  some  idle  hour  at 
sea  the  young  sailor  had  carved  his  initials  and  an 
anchor  and  the  date  on  the  cover.  We  found 
some  sail-needles  and  a  palm  in  this  "  kit,"  as  the 
sailors  call  it,  and  a  little  string  of  buttons  with 
some  needles  and  yarn  and  thread  in  a  neat  little 
bag,  which  perhaps  his  mother  had  made  for  him 
when  he  started  off  on  his  first  voyage.  Besides 
these  things  there  was  only  a  fanciful  little  broken 
buckle,  green  and  gilt,  which  he  might  have  picked 
up  in  some  foreign  street,  and  his  protection- 
paper  carefully  folded,  wherein  he  was  certified  as 
being  a  citizen  of  the  United  States,  with  dark 
complexion  and  dark  hair. 

"  He  was  one  of  the  pleasantest  fellows  that 
ever  I  shipped  with,"  said  the  captain,  with  a  gruff 
tenderness  in  his  voice.  "Always  willin'  to  do  his 
work  himself,  and  like  's  not  when  the  other  fel 
lows  up  the  rigging  were  cold,  or  ugly  about  some- 


CAPTAIN   SANDS.  121 

thing  or  'nother,  he  'd  say  something  that  would 
set  them  all  laughing,  and  somehow  it  made  you 
good-natured  to  see  him  round.  He  was  brought 
up  a  Catholic,  I  s'pose ;  anyway,  he  had  some  beads, 
and  sometimes  they  would  joke  him  about  'em  on 
board  ship,  but  he  would  blaze  up  in  a  minute, 
ugly  as  a  tiger.  I  never  saw  him  mad  about  any 
thing  else,  though  he  would  n't  stand  it  if  anybody 
tried  to  crowd  him.  He  fell  from  the  main-to'- 
gallant  yard  to  the  deck,  and  was  dead  when  they 
picked  him  up.  They  were  off  the  Bermudas.  I 
suppose  he  lost  his  balance,  but  I  never  could  see 
how ;  he  was  sure-footed,  and  as  quick  as  a  cat. 
They  said  they  saw  him  try  to  catch  at  the  stay, 
but  there  was  a  heavy  sea  running,  and  the  ship 
rolled  just  so  's  to  let  him  through  between  the 
rigging,  and  he  struck  the  deck  like  a  stone.  I 
don't  know  's  that  chest  has  been  opened  these 
ten  years,  —  I  declare  it  carries  me  back  to  look 
at  those  poor  little  traps  of  his.  Well,  it 's  the  way 
of  the  world  ;  we  think  we  're  somebody,  and  we 
have  our  day,  but  it  is  n't  long  afore  we  're  for 
gotten." 

The   captain  reached   over  for  the  paper,  and 
taking  out  a  clumsy  pair  of  steel-bowed  spectacles, 
read  it  through  carefully.     "  I  '11  warrant  he  took 
6 


122  DEEPHAVEN. 

good  care  of  this,"  said  he.  "  He  was  an  I-talian, 
and  no  more  of  an  American  citizen  than  a  Chinese  ; 
I  wonder  he  had  n't  called  himself  John  Jones, 
that 's  the  name  most  of  the  foreigners  used  to  take 
when  they  got  their  papers.  I  remember  once  I 
was  sick  with  a  fever  in  Chelsea  Hospital,  and  one 
morning  they  came  bringing  in  the  mate  of  a  Por- 
tugee  brig  on  a  stretcher,  and  the  surgeon  asked 
what  his  name  was.  'John  Jones,'  says  he.  '0, 
say  something  else,'  says  the  surgeon  ;  'we've  got 
five  John  Joneses  here  a'rcady,  and  it  's  getting 
to  be  no  name  at  all.'  Sailors  are  great  hands  for 
false  names  ;  they  have  a  trick  of  using  them  when 
they  have  any  money  to  leave  ashore,  for  fear  their 
shipmates  will  go  and  draw  it  out.  I  suppose  there 
are  thousands  of  dollars  unclaimed  in  New  York 
banks,  where  men  have  left  it  charged  to  their 
false  names ;  then  they  get  lost  at  sea  or  some 
thing,  and  never  go  to  get  it,  and  nobody  knows 
whose  it  is.  They  're  curious  folks,  take  'em  alto 
gether,  sailors  is  ;  specially  these  foreign  fellows 
that  wander  about  from  ship  to  ship.  They  're 
getting  to  be  a  dreadful  low  set,  too,  of  late  years. 
It 's  the  last  thing  1  'd  want  a  boy  of  mine  to  do, 
—  ship  before  the  mast  with  one  of  these  mixed 
crews.  It 's  a  dog's  life,  anyway,  and  the  risks  and 


CAPTAIN  SANDS.  123 

the  chances  against  you  are  awful.  It 's  a  good 
while  before  you  can  lay  up  anything,  unless  you 
are  part  owner.  I  saw  all  the  p'ints  a  good  deal 
plainer  after  I  quit  followiu'the  sea  myself,  though 
I  've  always  been  more  or  less  into  navigation  until 
this  last  war  come  on.  I  know  when  I  was  ship's 
husband  of  the  Polly  and  Susan  there  was  a  young 
man  went  out  cap'n  of  her,  —  her  last  voyage,  and 
she  never  was  heard  from.  He  had  a  wife  and  two 
or  three  little  children,  and  for  all  he  was  so  smart, 
they  wTould  have  been  about  the  same  as  beggars, 
if  I  had  n't  happened  to  have  his  life  insured  the 
day  I  was  having  the  papers  made  out  for  the 
ship.  I  happened  to  think  of  it.  Five  thousand 
dollars  there  was,  and  I  sent  it  to  the  widow  along 
with  his  primage.  She  had  n't  expected  nothing, 
or  next  to  nothing,  and  she  was  pleased,  I  tell  ye." 
"  I  think  it  was  very  kind  in  you  to  think  of 
that,  Captain  Sands,"  said  Kate.  And  the  old  man 
said,  flushing  a  little,  "  Well,  I  'm  not  so  smart  as 
some  of  the  men  who  started  when  I  did,  a'sA 
some  of  'em  went  ahead  of  me,  but  some  of  'em 
did  n't,  after  all.  I  've  tried  to  be  honest,  and 
to  do  just  about  as  nigh  right  as  I  could,  and  you 
know  there  's  an  old  sayin'  that  a  cripple  in  the 
right  road  will  beat  a  racer  in  the  wrong." 


THE  CIRCUS   AT    DEXBY. 


3ATE  and  I  looked  forward  to  a  certain 
Saturday  with  as  much  eagerness  as  if 
we  had  been  little  school-boys,  for  on  that 
day  we  were  to  go  to  a  circus  at  Denby,  a  town 
perhaps  eight  miles  inland.  There  had  not  been 
a  circus  so  near  Deephaven  for  a  long  time,  and 
nobody  had  dared  to  believe  the  first  rumor  of  it, 
until  two  dashing  young  men  had  deigned  to  come 
themselves  to  put  np  the  big  posters  on  the  end 
of  'Bijah  Mauley's  barn.  All  the  boys  in  town 
came  as  soon  as  possible  to  see  these  amazing 
pictures,  and  some  were  wretched  in  their  secret 
hearts  at  the  thought  that  they  might  not  see  the 
show  itself.  Tommy  Dockum  was  more  interested 
than  any  one  else,  and  mentioned  the  subject  so 
frequently  one  day  when  he  went  blackberrying 
with  us,  that  we  grew  enthusiastic,  and  told  each 
other  what  fun  it  would  be  to  go,  for  everybody 
would  be  there,  and  it  would  be  the  greatest  loss 


THE  CIRCUS  AT  DENBY.  125 

to  us  if  we  were  absent.  I  thought  I  had  lost  my 
childish  fondness  for  circuses,  but  it  caine  back 
redoubled ;  and  Kate  may  contradict  me  if  she 
chooses,  but  I  am  sure  she  never  looked  forward 
to  the  Easter  Oratorio  with  half  the  pleasure 
she  did  to  this  "  caravan,"  as  most  of  the  people 
called  it. 

Wo  felt  that  it  was  a  great  pity  that  any  of  the 
boys  and  girls  should  be  left  lamenting  at  home, 
and  finding  that  there  were  some  of  our  acquaint 
ances  and  Tommy's  who  saw  no  chance  of  going, 
we  engaged  Jo  Sands  and  Leander  Dockum  to 
carry  them  to  Denby  in  two  fish-wagons,  with 
boards  laid  across  for  the  extra  seats.  We  saw 
them  join  the  straggling  train  of  carriages  which 
had  begun  to  go  through  the  village  from  all  along 
shore,  soon  after  daylight,  and  they  started  on 
their  journey  shouting  and  carousing,  with  their 
pockets  crammed  with  early  apples  and  other 
provisions.  We  thought  it  would  have  been  fun 
enough  to  see  the  people  go  by,  for  we  had  had  no 
idea  until  then  how  many  inhabitants  that  coun 
try  held. 

We  had  asked  Mrs.  Kew  to  go  with  us;  but  she 
was  half  an  hour  later  than  she  had  promised,  for, 
since  there  was  no  wind,  she  could  not  come  ashore 


126  DEEPHAVEN. 

in  the  sail-boat,  and  Mr.  Kew  had  had  to  row  her 
in  in  the  dory.  We  saw  the  boat  at  last  nearly 
in  shore,  and  drove  down  to  meet  it  :  even  the 
horse  seemed  to  realize  what  a  great  day  it  was, 
and  showed  a  disposition  to  friskiness,  evidently 
as  surprising  to  himself  as  to  us. 

Mrs.  Kew  was  funnier  that  day  than  we  had 
ever  known  her,  which  is  saying  a  great  deal,  and 
we  should  not  have  had  half  so  good  a  time  if  she 
had  not  been  with  us  ;  although  she  lived  in  the 
lighthouse,  and  had  no  chance  to  "  see  passing," 
which  a  woman  prizes  so  highly  in  the  country, 
she  had  a  wonderful  memory  for  faces,  and  could 
tell  us  the  names  of  all  Deephaveners  and  of  most 
of  the  people  we  met  outside  its  limits.  She 
looked  impressed  and  solemn  as  she  hurried  up 
from  the  water's  edge,  giving  Mr.  Kew  some  part 
ing  charges  over  her  shoulder  as  he  pushed  oft' 
the  boat  to  go  back  ;  but  after  we  had  convinced 
her  that  the  delay  had  not  troubled  us,  she  seemed 
more  cheerful.  It  was  evident  that  she  felt  the 
importance  of  the  occasion,  and  that  she  was 
pleased  at  our  having  chosen  her  for  company. 
She  threw  back  her  veil  entirely,  sat  very  straight, 
and  took  immense  pains  to  bow  to  every  acquaint 
ance  whom  she  met.  She  wore  her  best  Sunday 


THE  CIRCUS  AT  DENBY.  127 

clothes,  and  her  manner  was  formal  for  the  first 
few  minutes ;  it  was  evident  that  she  felt  we  were 
meeting  under  unusual  circumstances,  and  that, 
although  we  had  often  met  before  on  the  friend 
liest  terms,  our  having  asked  her  to  make  this 
excursion  in  pxiblic  reqiiired  a  different  sort  of 
behavior  at  her  hands,  and  a  due  amount  of  cere 
mony  and  propriety.  But  this  state  of  things  did 
not  last  long,  as  she  soon  made  a  remark  at  which 
Kate  and  I  laughed  so  heartily  in  lighthouse-ac 
quaintance  fashion,  that  she  unbent,  and  gave  her 
whole  mind  to  enjoying  herself. 

When  we  came  by  the  store  where  the  post- 
office  was  kept  we  saw  a  small  knot  of  people 
gathered  round  the  door,  and  stopped  to  see  what 
had  happened.  There  was  a  forlorn  horse  stand 
ing  near,  with  his  harness  tied  up  with  fuzzy  ends 
of  rope,  and  the  wagon  was  cobbled  together  with 
pieces  of  board  ;  the  whole  craft  looked  as  if  it 
might  be  wrecked  with  the  least  jar.  In  the 
wagon  were  four  or  five  stupid-looking  boys  and 
girls,  one  of  whom  was  crying  softly.  Their  father 
was  sick,  some  one  told  us.  "He  was  took  faint, 
but  ho  is  coming  to  all  right ;  they  have  give 
him  something  to  take  :  their  name  is  Craper,  and 
they  live  way  over  beyond  the  Ridge,  on  Stone 


128  DEEPHAVEN. 

Hill.  They  were  goin'  over  to  Denby  to  the  cir 
cus,  and  the  man  was  calc'lating  to  get  doctored, 
but  I  d'  know 's  he  can  get  so  fur ;  he  's  powerful 
slim  looking  to  me."  Kate  and  I  went  to  see  if 
we  could  be  of  any  use,  and  when  we  went  into 
the  store  we  saw  the  man  leaning  back  in  his 
chair,  looking  ghastly  pale,  and  as  if  he  were  far 
gone  in  consumption.  Kate  spoke  to  him,  and  he 
said  he  was  better ;  he  had  felt  bad  all  the  way 
along,  but  he  had  n't  given  up.  He  was  pitiful, 
poor  fellow,  with  his  evident  attempt  at  dressing 
up.  He  had  the  bushiest,  dustiest  red  hair  and 
whiskers,  which  made  the  pallor  of  his  face  still 
more  striking,  and  his  illness  had  thinned  and 
paled  his  rough,  clumsy  hands.  I  thought  what  a 
hard  piece  of  work  it  must  have  been  for  him  to 
start  for  the  circus  that  morning,  and  how  kind- 
hearted  he  must  be  to  have  made  such  an  effort 
for  his  children's  pleasure.  As  we  went  out  they 
stared  at  us  gloomily.  The  shadow  of  their  disap 
pointment  touched  and  chilled  our  pleasure. 

Somebody  had  turned  the  horse  so  that  he 
was  heading  toward  home,  and  by  his  actions  he 
showed  that  he  was  the  only  one  of  the  party  who 
was  glad.  We  were  so  sorry  for  the  children  ; 
perhaps  it  had  promised  to  be  the  happiest  day  of 


THE  CIRCUS  AT  DENBY.  129 

their  lives,  and  now  they  must  go  back  to  their 
uninteresting  home  without  having  seen  the  great 
show. 

"  I  am  so  sorry  you  are  disappointed,"  said  Kate, 
as  we  were  wondering  how  the  man  who  had  fol 
lowed  us  could  ever  climb  into  the  wagon. 

"  Heh  1 "  said  he,  blankly,  as  if  he  did  not  know 
what  her  words  meant.  "  What  fool  has  been  a 
turning  o'  this  horse  ]  "  he  asked  a  man  who  was 
looking  on. 

"  Why,  which  way  be  ye  goin'  ]  " 

"  To  the  circus,"  said  Mr.  Craper,  with  decision, 
"  where  d'  ye  s'pose  ?  That 's  where  I  started  for, 
anyways."  And  he  climbed  in  and  glanced  round  to 
count  the  children,  struck  the  horse  with  the  willow 
switch,  and  they  started  off  briskly,  while  every 
body  laughed.  Kate  and  I  joined  Mrs.  Kew,  who 
had  enjoyed  the  scene. 

"  Well,  there  !  "  said  she,  "  I  wonder  the  folks 
in  the  old  North  burying-ground  ain't  a-rising  up 
to  go  to  Denby  to  that  caravan  !  " 

We  reached  Denby  at  noon  •  it  was  an  unin 
teresting  town  which  had  grown  up  around  some 
mills.  There  was  a  great  commotion  in  the  streets, 
and  it  was  evident  that  we  had  lost  much  in  not 
having  seen  the  procession.  There  was  a  great 
6*  i 


130  DEEPHAVEN. 

deal  of  business  going  on  in  the  shops,  and  there 
were  two  or  three  hand-organs  at  large,  near  one 
of  which  we  stopped  awhile  to  listen,  just  after 
we  had  met  Leander  and  given  the  horse  into  his 
charge.  Mrs.  Kew  finished  her  shopping  as  soon 
as  possible,  and  we  hurried  toward  the  great  tents, 
where  all  the  flags  were  flying.  I  think  I  have 
not  told  you  that  we  were  to  have  the  benefit  of 
seeing  a  menagerie  in  addition  to  the  circus,  and 
you  may  be  sure  we  went  faithfully  round  to  see 
everything  that  the  cages  held. 

I  cannot  truthfully  say  that  it  was  a  good 
show ;  it  was  somewhat  dreary,  now  that  I  think 
of  it  quietly  and  without  excitement.  The  crea 
tures  looked  tired,  and  as  if  they  had  been  on  the 
road  for  a  great  many  years.  The  animals  were  all 
old,  and  there  was  a  shabby  great  elephant  whose 
look  of  general  discouragement  went  to  my  heart, 
for  it  seemed  as  if  he  were  miserably  conscious  of 
a  misspent  life.  He  stood  dejected  and  motionless 
at  one  side  of  the  tent,  and  it  was  hard  to  believe 
that  there  was  a  spark  of  vitality  left  in  him.  A 
great  number  of  the  people  had  never  seen  an  ele 
phant  before,  and  we  heard  a  thin  little  old  man, 
who  stood  near  us,  say  delightedly,  "  There  's  the 
old  creatur',  and  no  mistake,  Ann  'Liza.  I  wanted 


THE  CIRCUS  AT  DENBY.  131 

to  see  him  most  of  anything.  My  sakes  alive, 
ain't  he  big  !  " 

And  Ann  'Liza,  who  was  stout  and  sleepy -look 
ing,  droned  out,  "  Ye-es,  there  's  consider'ble  of 
him  ;  but  he  looks  as  if  he  ain't  got  no  animation." 

Kate  and  I  turned  away  and  laughed,  while 
Mrs.  Kew  said  confidentially,  as  the  couple  moA'ed 
away,  "  She  need  n't  be  a  reflectin'  on  the  poor 
beast.  That 's  Mis  Seth  Tanner,  and  there  is  n't 
a  woman  in  Deephaven  nor  East  Parish  to  be 
named  the  same  day  with  her  for  laziness.  I  'ra 
glad  she  did  n't  catch  sight  of  me ;  she  'd  havo 
talked  about  nothing  for  a  fortnight." 

There  was  a  picture  of  a  huge  snake  in  Deep- 
haven,  and  I  was  just  wondering  where  he  could 
be,  or  if  there  ever  had  been  one,  when  we  heard 
a  boy  ask  the  same  question  of  the  man  whose 
thankless  task  it  was  to  stir  up  the  lions  with  a 
stick  to  make  them  roar.  "  The  snake  's  dead," 
he  answered  good-naturedly.  "  Did  n't  you  have 
to  dig  an  awful  long  grave  for  him  1 "  asked  the 
boy  ;  but  the  man  said  he  reckoned  they  curled 
him  up  some,  and  smiled  as  he  turned  to  his  lions, 
who  looked  as  if  they  needed  a  tonic.  Every 
body  lingered  longest  before  the  monkeys,  who 
seemed  to  be  the  only  lively  creatures  in  the 


132  DEEPHAVEN. 

whole  collection ;  and  finally  we  made  our  way 
into  the  other  tent,  and  perched  ourselves  on  a 
high  seat,  from  whence  we  had  a  capital  view  of 
the  audience  and  the  ring,  and  could  see  the  peo 
ple  come  in.  Mrs.  Kew  was  on  the  lookout  for 
acquaintances,  and  her  spirits  as  well  as  our  own 
seemed  to  rise  higher  and  higher.  She  was  on 
the  alert,  moving  her  head  this  way  and  that  to 
catch  sight  of  people,  giving  us  a  running  com 
mentary  in  the  mean  time.  It  was  very  pleasant 
to  see  a  person  so  happy  as  Mrs.  Kew  was  that 
day,  and  I  dare  say  in  speaking  of  the  occasion 
she  would  say  the  same  thing  of  Kate  and  me,  — 
for  it  was  such  a  good  time  !  We  bought  some 
peanuts,  without  which  no  circus  seems  complete, 
and  we  listened  to  the  conversations  which  were 
being  carried  on  around  us  while  we  were  wait 
ing  for  the  performance  to  begin.  There  were 
two  old  farmers  wrhom  we  had  noticed  occasionally 
in  Deephaven  ;  one  was  telling  the  other,  with 
great  confusion  of  pronouns,  about  a  big  pig 
which  had  lately  been  killed.  "  John  did  feel 
dreadful  disappointed  at  having  to  kill  now,"  we 
heard  him  say,  "  bein'  as  he  had  calc'lated  to  kill 
along  near  Thanksgivin'  time  ;  there  was  goin'  to 
be  a  new  moon  then,  and  he  expected  to  get  sev- 


THE  CIRCUS  AT  DENBY.  133 

enty-five  or  a  hundred  pound  more  on  to  him. 
But  he  didn't  seem  to  gain,  and  me  and  'Bijah 
both  told  him  he  'd  be  better  to  kill  now,  while 
everything  was  favor'ble,  and  if  he  set  out  to 
wait  something  might  happen  to  him,  and  then 
I  've  always  held  that  you  can't  get  no  hog  only 
just  so  fur,  and  for  my  part  I  don't  like  these  great 
overgrown  creatur's.  I  like  well  enough  to  see  a 
hog  that  '11  weigh  six  hunderd,  just  for  the  beauty 
on  't,  but  for  my  eatin'  give  me  one  that  '11  just 
rise  three.  'Bijah 's  accurate,  and  he  says  he  is 
goin'  to  weigh  risin'  five  hundred  and  fifty.  I 
shall  stop,  as  I  go  home,  to  John's  wife's  broth 
er's  and  see  if  they  've  got  the  particulars  yet ; 
John  was  goin'  to  get  the  scales  this  morning.  I 
guess  likely  consider' ble  many  '11  gather  there  to 
morrow  after  meeting.  John  did  n't  calc'late  to 
cut  up  till  Monday." 

"  I  guess  likely  I  '11  stop  in  to-morrow,"  said 
the  other  man ;  "  I  like  to  see  a  han'some  hog. 
Chester  White,  you  said  1  Consider  them  best, 
don't  ye  1 "  But  this  question  never  was  an 
swered,  for  the  greater  part  of  the  circus  company 
in  gorgeous  trappings  came  pai'ading  in. 

The  circus  was  like  all  other  circuses,  except  that 
it  was  shabbier  than  most,  and  the  performers 


134  DEEPHAVEN. 

seemed  to  have  less  heart  in  it  than  usual.  They 
did  their  best,  and  went  through  with  their  parts 
conscientiously,  but  they  looked  as  if  they  never 
had  had  a  good  time  in  their  lives.  The  audience 
was  hilarious,  and  cheered  and  laughed  at  the  tired 
clown  until  he  looked  as  if  he  thought  his  speeches 
might  possibly  be  funny,  after  all.  We  were  so 
glad  we  had  pleased  the  poor  thing ;  and  when  he 
sang  a  song  our  satisfaction  was  still  greater,  and 
so  he  sang  it  all  over  again.  Perhaps  he  had  been 
associating  with  people  who  were  used  to  circuses. 
The  afternoon  was  hot,  and  the  boys  with  Japanese 
fans  and  trays  of  lemonade  did  a  remarkable  busi 
ness  for  so  late  in  the  season ;  the  brass  band  on 
the  other  side  of  the  tent  shrieked  its  very  best, 
and  all  the  young  men  of  the  region  had  brought 
their  girls,  and  some  of  these  countless  pairs  of 
country  lovers  we  watched  a  great  deal,  as  they 
"  kept  company  "  with  more  or  less  depth  of  satis 
faction  in  each  other.  We  had  a  grand  chance  to 
see  the  fashions,  and  there  were  many  old  people 
and  a  great  number  of  little  children,  and  some 
families  had  evidently  locked  their  house  door 
behind  them,  since  they  had  brought  both  the  dog 
and  the  baby. 

"  Does  n't  it  seem  as  if  you  were  a  child  again  1 " 


THE  CIRCUS  AT  DENBT.  135 

Kate  asked  me.  "  I  am  sure  this  is  just  the 
same  as  the  first  circus  I  ever  saw.  It  grows 
more  and  more  familiar,  and  it  puzzles  me  to 
think  they  should  not  have  altered  in  the  least 
while  I  have  changed  so  much,  and  have  even  had 
time  to  grow  up.  You  don't  know  how  it  is  making 
me  remember  other  things  of  which  I  have  not 
thought  for  years.  I  was  seven  years  old  when 
I  went  that  first  time.  Uncle  Jack  invited  me.  I 
had  a  new  parasol,  and  he  laughed  because  I  would 
hold  it  over  my  shoulder  when  the  sun  was  in  my 
face.  He  took  me  into  the  side-shows  and  bought 
me  everything  I  asked  for,  on  the  way  home,  and 
\ve  did  not  get  home  until  twilight.  The  rest  of 
the  family  had  dined  at  four  o'clock  and  gone  out 
for  a  long  drive,  and  it  was  such  fun  to  have  our 
dinner  by  ourselves.  I  sat  at  the  head  of  the 
table  in  mamma's  place,  and  when  Bridget  came 
down  and  insisted  that  I  must  go  to  bed,  Uncle 
Jack  came  softly  up  stairs  and  sat  by  the  window, 
smoking  and  telling  me  stories.  He  ran  and  hid 
in  the  closet  when  we  heard  mamma  coming  up, 
and  when  she  found  him  out  by  the  cigar-smoke, 
and  made  believe  scold  him,  I  thought  she  was  in 
earnest,  and  begged  him  off.  Yes  ;  and  I  remem 
ber  that  Bridget  sat  in  the  next  room,  making  her 


136  DEEPHAVEJ^. 

new  dress  so  she  could  wear  it  to  church  next  day. 
I  thought  it  was  a  beautiful  dress,  and  besought 
mamma  to  have  one  like  it.  It  was  bright  green 
with  yellow  spots  all  over  it,"  said  Kate.  "  Ah, 
poor  Uncle  Jack  !  he  was  so  good  to  me !  We 
were  always  telling  stories  of  what  we  would  do 
when  I  was  grown  up.  He  died  in  Canton  the 
next  year,  and  I  cried  myself  ill ;  but  for  a  long 
time  I  thought  he  might  not  be  dead,  after  all,  and 
might  come  home  any  day.  He  used  to  seem  so 
old  to  me,  and  he  really  was  just  out  of  college  and 
not  so  old  as  I  am  now.  That  day  at  the  circus 
he  had  a  pink  rosebud  in  his  buttonhole,  and  — 
ah  !  when  have  I  ever  thought  of  this  before  !  —  a 
woman  sat  before  us  who  had  a  stiff  little  cape  on 
her  bonnet  like  a  shelf,  and  I  carefully  put  peanuts 
round  the  edge  of  it,  and  when  she  moved  her 
head  they  would  fall.  I  thought  it  was  the  best 
fun  in  the  world,  and  I  wished  Uncle  Jack  to  ride 
the  donkey ;  I  was  sure  he  could  keep  on,  because 
his  horse  had  capered  about  with  him  one  day  on 
Beacon  Street,  and  I  thought  him  a  perfect  rider, 
since  nothing  had  happened  to  him  then." 

"I  remember,"  said  Mrs.  Kew,  presently,  "that 
just  before  I  was  married  '  he '  took  me  over  to 
Wareham  Corners  to  a  caravan.  My  sister  Han- 


THE  CIRCUS  AT  DENBY.  137 

nah  and  the  young  man  who  was  keeping  company 
with  her  went  too.  I  have  n't  been  to  one  since 
till  to-day,  and  it  does  carry  me  back  same's  it 
does  you,  Miss  Kate.  It  does  n't  seem  more  than 
five  years  ago,  and  what  would  I  have  thought  if 
I  had  known  '  he '  and  I  were  going  to  keep  a  light 
house  and  be  contented  there,  what 's  more,  and 
sometimes  not  get  ashore  for  a  fortnight ;  settled, 
gray-headed  old  folks !  We  were  gay  enough  in 
those  days.  I  know  old  Miss  Sabrina  Smith  warned 
me  that  I  'd  better  think  twice  before  I  took  up 
with  Tom  Kew,  for  he  was  a  light-minded  young 
man.  I  speak  o'  that  to  him  in  the  winter-time, 
when  he  sets  reading  the  almanac  half  asleep  and 
I  'm  knitting,  and  the  wind's  a'  howling  and  the 
waves  coming  ashore  on  those  rocks  as  if  they 
wished  they  could  put  out  the  light  and  blow  down 
the  lighthouse.  We  were  reflected  on  a  good  deal 
for  going  to  that  caravan ;  some  of  the  old  folks 
did  n't  think  it  was  improvin'  —  Well,  I  should 
think  that  man  was  a  trying  to  break  his  neck ! " 

Coming  out  of  the  great  tent  was  disagreeable 
enough,  and  we  seemed  to  have  chosen  the  worst 
time,  for  the  crowd  pushed  fiercely,  though  I  sup 
pose  nobody  was  in  the  least  hurry,  and  we  were 
all  severely  jammed,  while  from  somewhere  under- 


138  DEEPHAVEN. 

neath  came  the  wails  of  a  deserted  dog.  We  had 
not  meant  to  see  the  side-shows,  and  went  care 
lessly  past  two  or  three  tents ;  but  when  we  came 
in  sight  of  the  picture  of  the  Kentucky  giantess, 
we  noticed  that  Mrs.  Kew  looked  at  it  wistfully, 
and  we  immediately  asked  if  she  cared  anything 
about  going  to  see  the  wonder,  whereupon  she  con 
fessed  that  she  never  heard  of  such  a  thing  as  a 
woman's  weighing  six  hundred  and  fifty  pounds, 
so  we  all  three  went  in.  There  were  only  two 
or  three  persons  inside  the  tent,  beside  a  little  boy 
who  played  the  hand-organ. 

The  Kentucky  giantess  sat  in  two  chairs  on  a 
platform,  and  there  was  a  large  cage  of  monkeys 
just  beyond,  toward  which  Kate  and  I  went  at 
once.  "  Why,  she  is  n't  more  than  two  thirds  as 
big  as  the  picture,"  said  Mrs.  Kew,  in  a  regretful 
whisper  ;  "  but  I  guess  she  's  big  enough  ;  does  n't 
she  look  discouraged,  poor  creatur'  ] "  Kate  and 
I  felt  ashamed  of  ourselves  for  being  there.  No 
matter  if  she  had  consented  to  be  carried  round 
for  a  show,  it  must  have  been  horrible  to  be  stared 
at  and  joked  about  day  after  day ;  and  we  gravely- 
looked  at  the  monkeys,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
turned  to  see  if  Mrs.  Kew  were  not  ready  to  come 
away,  when  to  our  surprise  we  saw  that  she  was 


THE  CIRCUS  AT  DENBY.  139 

talking  to  the  giantess  with  great  interest,  and  we 
went  nearer. 

"  I  thought  your  face  looked  natural  the  min 
ute  I  set  foot  inside  the  door,"  said  Mrs.  Kew; 
"  but  you  've  —  altered  some  since  I  saw  you,  and 
I  could  n't  place  you  till  I  heard  you  speak.  Why, 
you  used  to  be  spare ;  I  am  amazed,  Marilly  ! 
Where  are  your  folks  1 " 

"  I  don't  wonder  you  are  surprised,"  said  the 
giantess.  "  I  was  a  good  ways  from  this  when  you 
knew  me,  was  n't  1 1  But  father  he  run  through 
with  every  cent  he  had  before  he  died,  and  'he'  took 
to  drink  and  it  killed  him  after  a  while,  and  then 
I  begun  to  grow  worse  and  worse,  till  I  could  n't 
do  nothing  to  earn  a  dollar,  and  everybody  was  a 
coming  to  see  me,  till  at  last  I  used  to  ask  'em 
ten  cents  apiece,  and  I  scratched  along  somehow 
till  this  man  came  round  and  heard  of  me,  and  he 
offered  me  my  keep  and  good  pay  to  .go  along  with 
him.  He  had  another  giantess  before  me,  but  she 
had  begun  to  fall  away  consider'ble,  so  he  paid 
her  off  and  let  her  go.  This  other  giantess  was 
an  awful  expense  to  him,  she  was  such  an  eater  ; 
now  I  don't  have  no  great  of  an  appetite,"  —  this 
was  said  plaintively,  —  "  and  he  's  raised  my  pay 
since  I  've  been  with  him  because  we  did  so  well. 


140  DEEPHAVEN. 

I  took  up  with  his  offer  because  I  was  nothing 
but  a  drag  and  never  will  be.  1  'm  as  comfortable 
as  I  can  be,  but  it 's  a  pretty  hard  business.  My 
oldest  boy  is  able  to  do  for  himself,  but  he  's  mar 
ried  this  last  year,  and  his  wife  don't  want  me.  I 
don't  know 's  I  blame  her  either.  It  would  be 
something  like  if  I  had  a  daughter  now  ;  but  there, 
I  'm  getting  to  like  travelling  first-rate  ;  it  gives 
anybody  a  good  deal  to  think  of." 

"  I  was  asking  the  folks  about  you  when  I  was 
up  home  the  early  part  of  the  summer,"  said  Mrs. 
Kew,  "  but  all  they  knew  was  that  you  were  living 
out  in  New  York  State.  Have  you  been  living  in 
Kentucky  long  1  I  saw  it  on  the  picture  outside." 

"  No,"  said  the  giantess,  "  that  was  a  picture 
the  man  bought  cheap  from  another  show  that 
broke  up  last  year.  It  says  six  hundred  and  fifty 
pounds,  but  I  don't  weigh  more  than  four  hundred. 
I  have  n't  been  weighed  for  some  time  past.  Be 
tween  you  and  me  I  don't  weigh  so  much  as  that, 
but  you  must  n't  mention  it,  for  it  would  spoil  my 
reputation,  and  might  bender  my  getting  another 
engagement."  And  then  the  poor  giantess  lost 
her  professional  look  and  tone  as  she  said,  "  I  be 
lieve  I  'd  rather  die  than  grow  any  bigger.  I  do 
lose  heart  sometimes,  and  wish  I  was  a  smart  wo- 


THE  CIRCUS  AT  DENBT.  141 

man  and  could  keep  house.  I  'd  be  smarter  than 
ever  I  was  when  I  had  the  chance ;  I  tell  you 
that !  Is  Tom  along  with  you  1 " 

"  No.  I  came  with  these  young  ladies,  Miss 
Lancaster  and  Miss  Denis,  who  are  stopping  over 
to  Deephavcn  for  the  summer."  Kate  and  I 
turned  as  we  heard  this  introduction  ;  we  were 
standing  close  by.  and  I  am  proud  to  say  that  I 
never  saw  Kate  treat  any  one  more  politely  than 
she  did  that  absurd,  pitiful  creature  with  the  gilt 
crown  and  many  bracelets.  It  was  not  that  she 
said  much,  but  there  was  such  an  exquisite  cour 
tesy  in  her  manner,  and  an  apparent  unconscious 
ness  of  there  being  anything  in  the  least  surprising 
or  uncommon  about  the  giantess. 

Just  then  a  party  of  people  came  in,  and  Mrs. 
Kew  said  good  by  reluctantly.  "  It  has  done  me 
sights  of  good  to  see  you,"  said  our  new  acquaint 
ance  ;  "  I  was  feeling  down-hearted  just  before  you 
came  in.  I  'm  pleased  to  see  somebody  that 
remembers  me  as  I  used  to  be."  And  they  shook 
hands  in  a  way  that  meant  a  great  deal,  and  when 
Kate  and  I  said  good  afternoon  the  giantess  looked 
at  us  gratefully,  and  said,  "  I  'm  very  much  obliged 
to  you  for  coming  in,  young  ladies." 

"  Walk  in  !  walk   in  ! "  the  man  was  shouting 


H2  LEEPJIAVEN. 

as  we  came  away.  "  Walk  in  and  see  the  wonder 
of  the  world,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  —  the  largest 
woman  ever  seen  in  America,  —  the  great  Ken 
tucky  giantess ! " 

"  Would  n't  you  have  liked  to  stay  longer  1 " 
Kate  asked  Mrs.  Kew  as  we  came  down  the  street. 
But  she  answered  that  it  would  be  no  satisfaction  ; 
the  people  were  coining  in,  and  she  would  have  no 
chance  to  talk.  "  I  never  knew  her  very  well ;  she 
is  younger  than  I,  and  she  used  to  go  to  meeting 
where  1  did,  but  she  lived  five  or  six  miles  from  our 
house.  She  's  had  a  hard  time  of  it,  according  to  her 
account,"  said  Mrs.  Kew.  "  She  used  to  be  a  dread 
ful  nighty,  high-tempered  girl,  but  she's  lost -that 
now,  I  can  see  by  her  eyes.  I  was  running  over  in 
my  mind  to  see  if  there  was  anything  I  could  do  for 
her,  but  I  don't  know  as  there  is.  She  said  the  man 
who  hired  her  was  kind.  I  guess  your  treating  her 
so  polite  did  her  as  much  good  as  anything.  She 
used  to  be  real  ambitious.  I  had  it  on  my  tongue's 
end  to  ask  her  if  she  could  n't  get  a  few  days' 
leave  and  come  out  to  stop  with  me,  but  I  thought 
just  in  time  that  she  'd  sink  the  dory  in  a  minute. 
There  !  seeing  her  has  took  away  all  the  fun,"  said 
Mrs.  Kew  ruefully ;  and  we  were  all  dismal  for  a 
while,  but  at  last,  after  we  were  fairly  started  for 
home,  we  began  to  be  merry  again. 


THE  CIRCUS  AT  DENEY.  143 

We  passed  the  Craper  family  whom  we  had  seen 
at  the  store  in  the  morning ;  the  children  looked 
as  stupid  as  ever,  but  the  father,  I  am  sorry  to  say, 
had  been  tempted  to  drink  more  whiskey  than 
was  good  for  him.  He  had  a  bright  flush  on  his 
cheeks,  and  he  was  flourishing  his  whip,  and 
hoarsely  singing  some  meaningless  tune.  "  Poor 
creature  ! "  said  I,  "  I  should  think  this  day's 
pleasuring  would  kill  him."  "  Now,  would  n't  you 
think  sol"  said  Mrs.  Kew,  sympathizingly ;  "but 
the  truth  is,  you  could  n't  kill  one  of  those  Cra- 
pers  if  you  pounded  him  in  a  mortar." 

We  had  a  pleasant  drive  home,  and  we  kept 
Mrs.  Kew  to  supper,  and  afterward  went  down  to 
the  shore  to  see  her  set  sail  for  home.  Mr.  Kew 
had  come  in  some  time  before,  and  had  been  wait 
ing  for  the  moon  to  rise.  Mrs.  Kew  told  us  that 
she  should  have  enough  to  think  of  for  a  year,  she 
had  enjoyed  the  day  so  much  ;  and  we  stood  on 
the  pebbles  watching  the  boat  out  of  the  harbor, 
and  wishing  ourselves  on  board,  it  was  such  a 
beautiful  evening. 

We  went  to  another  show  that  summer,  the 
memory  of  which  will  never  fade.  It  is  some 
what  impertinent  to  call  it  a  show,  and  "  public 


144  DEEPHAVEN. 

entertainment "  is  equally  inappropriate,  though 
we  certainly  were  entertained.  It  had  been  rain 
ing  for  two  or  three  days ;  the  Deephavcnites 
spoke  of  it  as  "  a  spell  of  weather."  Just  after 
tea,  one  Thursday  evening,  Kate  and  I  went  down 
to  the  post-office.  When  we  opened  the  great  hall 
door,  the  salt  air  was  delicious,  but  we  found  the 
town  apparently  wet  through  and  discouraged ; 
and  though  it  had  almost  stopped  raining  just 
then,  there  was  a  Scotch  mist,  like  a  snow-storm 
with  the  chill  taken  off,  and  the  Chantrey  elms 
dripped  hurriedly,  and  creaked  occasionally  in  the 
east-wind. 

"  There  will  not  be  a  cap'n  on  the  wharves  for 
a  week  after  this,"  said  I  to  Kate ;  "  only  think 
of  the  cases  of  rheumatism  !  " 

We  stopped  for  a  few  minutes  at  the  Carews', 
who  were  as  much  surprised  to  see  us  as  if  we  had 
been  mermaids  out  of  the  sea,  and  begged  us  to 
give  ourselves  something  warm  to  drink,  and  to 
change  our  boots  the  moment  we  got  home.  Then 
we  went  on  to  the  post-office.  Kate  went  in,  but 
stopped,  as  she  came  out  with  our  letters,  to  read 
a  written  notice  securely  fastened  to  the  grocery 
door  by  four  large  carpet-tacks  with  wide  leathers 
round  their  necks. 


THE  CIRCUS  AT  DENBT.  145 

"  Dear,"  said  she,  exultantly,  "  there  's  going  to 
be  a  lecture  to-night  in  the  church, — a  free  lecture 
on  the  Elements  of  True  Manhood.  Would  n't 
you  like  to  go  1 "  And  we  went. 

We  were  fifteen  minutes  later  than  the  time 
appointed,  and  were  sorry  to  find  that  the  audi 
ence  was  almost  imperceptible.  The  dampness 
had  affected  the  antiquated  lamps  so  that  those 
on  the  walls  and  on  the  front  of  the  gallery  were 
the  dimmest  lights  1  ever  saw,  and  sent  their  fee 
ble  rays  through  a  small  space  the  edges  of  which 
were  clearly  defined.  There  were  two  rather  more 
energetic  lights  on  the  table  near  the  pulpit, 
where  the  lecturer  sat,  and  as  we  were  in  the  rear 
of  the  church,  we  could  see  the  yellow  fog  between 
ourselves  and  him.  There  were  fourteen  persons 
in  the  audience,  and  we  were  all  huddled  together 
in  a  cowai'dly  way  in  the  pews  nearest  the  door : 
three  old  men,  four  women,  and  four  children, 
besides  ourselves  and  the  sexton,  a  deaf  little  old 
man  with  a  wooden  leg. 

The  children  whispered  noisily,  and  soon,  to 
our  surprise,  the  lecturer  rose  and  began.  He 
bowed,  and  treated  us  with  beautiful  deference, 
and  read  his  dreary  lecture  with  enthusiasm.  I 
wish  I  could  say,  for  his  sake,  that  it  was  interest- 
7  j 


146  DEEPHAVEN. 

ing ;  but  I  cannot  tell  a  lie,  and  it  was  so  long ! 
He  went  on  and  on,  until  it  seemed  as  if  I  had  been 
there  ever  since  I  was  a  little  girl.  Kate  and  I 
did  not  dare  to  look  at  each  other,  and  in  my  des 
peration  at  feeling  her  quiver  with  laughter,  I 
moved  to  the  other  end  of  the  pew,  knocking  over 
a  big  hymn-book  on  the  way,  which  attracted  so 
much  attention  that  I  have  seldom  felt  more  em 
barrassed  in  my  life.  Kate's  great  dog  rose  several 
times  to  shake  himself  and  yawn  loudly,  and  then 
lie  down  again  despairingly. 

You  would  have  thought  the  man  was  address 
ing  an  enthusiastic  Young  Men's  Christian  Asso 
ciation.  He  exhorted  with  fervor  upon  our  duties 
as  citizens  and  as  voters,  and  told  us  a  great  deal 
about  George  Washington  and  Benjamin  Franklin, 
•whom  he  urged  us  to  choose  as  our  examples.  He 
waited  for  applause  after  each  of  his  outbursts  of 
eloquence,  and  presently  went  on  again,  in  no  wise 
disconcerted  at  the  silence,  and  as  if  he  were  sure 
that  he  would  fetch  us  next  time.  The  rain  began 
to  fall  again  heavily,  and  the  wind  wailed  around 
the  meeting-house.  If  the  lecture  had  been  upon 
any  other  subject  it  would  not  have  been  so  hard 
for  Kate  and  me  to  keep  sober  faces ;  but  it  was 
directed  entirely  toward  young  men,  and  there 
was  not  a  young  man  there. 


THE  CIRCUS  AT  DENBY.  147 

The  children  in  front  of  us  mildly  scuffled  with 
each  other  at  one  time,  until  the  one  at  the  end 
of  the  pew  dropped  a  marble,  which  struck  the 
floor  and  rolled  with  a  frightful  noise  down  the 
edge  of  the  aisle  where  there  was  no  carpet.  The 
congregation  instinctively  started  up  to  look  after 
it,  but  we  recollected  ourselves  and  leaned  back 
again  in  our  places,  while  the  awed  children,  after 
keeping  unnaturally  quiet,  fell  asleep,  and  tumbled 
against  each  other  helplessly.  After  a  time  the 
man  sat  down  and  wiped  his  forehead,  looking  well 
satisfied  ;  and  when  we  were  wondering  whether  we 
might  with  propriety  come  away,  he  rose  again, 
and  said  it  was  a  free  lecture,  and  he  thanked  us 
for  our  kind  patronage  on  that  inclement  night ; 
but  in  other  places  which  he  had  visited  there 
had  been  a  contribution  taken  up  for  the  cause. 
It  would,  perhaps,  do  no  harm,  —  would  the  sex 
ton  — • 

But  the  sexton  could  not  have  heard  the  sound 
of  a  cannon  at  that  distance,  and  slumbered  on. 
Neither  Kate  nor  I  had  any  money,  except  a 
twenty-dollar  bill  in  my  purse,  and  some  coppers 
in  the  pocket  of  her  water-proof  cloak  which  she 
assured  me  she  was  prepared  to  give  ;  but  we 
saw  no  signs  of  the  sexton's  waking,  and  as  one 


148  DEEPHAVEN. 

of  the  women  kindly  went  forward  to  wake  the 
children,  we  all  rose  and  came  away. 

After  we  had  made  as  much  fun  and  laughed 
as  long  as  we  pleased  that  night,  we  became 
suddenly  conscious  of  the  pitiful  side  of  it  all  ; 
and  being  anxious  that  every  one  should  have 
the  highest  opinion  of  Deephaven,  we  sent  Tom 
Dock um  early  in  the  morning  with  an  anonymous 
note  to  the  lecturer,  whom  he  found  without  much 
trouble ;  but  afterward  we  were  disturbed  at  hear 
ing  that  he  was  going  to  repeat  his  lecture  that 
evening,  —  the  wind  having  gone  round  to  the 
northwest,  —  and  I  have  no  doubt  there  were  a 
good  many  women  able  to  be  out,  and  that  he 
harvested  enough  ten-cent  pieces  to  pay  his  ex 
penses  without  our  help  ;  though  he  had  particu 
larly  told  us  it  was  for  "  the  cause,"  the  evening 
before,  and  that  ought  to  have  been  a  consolation. 


GUNNER-FISHING. 

NE  of  the  chief  pleasures  in  Deephaven 
was  our  housekeeping.  Going  to  market 
was  apt  to  use  up  a  whole  morning, 
especially  if  we  went  to  the  fish-houses.  We  de 
pended  somewhat  upon  supplies  from  Boston,  but 
sometimes  we  used  to  chase  a  butcher  who  took  a 
drive  in  his  old  canvas-topped  cart  when  he  felt 
like  it,  and  as  for  fish,  there  were  always  enough 
to  be  caught,  even  if  we  could  not  buy  any.  Our 
acquaintances  would  often  ask  if  we  had  anything 
for  dinner  that  day,  and  would  kindly  suggest  that 
somebody  had  been  boiling  lobsters,  or  that  a  boat 
had  just  come  in  with  some  nice  mackerel,  or  that 
somebody  over  on  the  Ridge  was  calculating  to  kill 
a  lamb,  and  we  had  better  speak  for  a  quarter  in 
good  season.  I  am  afraid  we  were  looked  upon  as 
being  in  danger  of  becoming  epicures,  which  we 
certainly  are  not,  and  we  undoubtedly  roused  a 
great  deal  of  interest  Decause  we  used  to  eat  mush- 


150  DEEPHAVEN. 

rooms,  which  grew  in  the  suburbs  of  the  town  in 
wild  luxuriance. 

One  morning  Maggie  told  us  that  there  was 
nothing  in  the  house  for  dinner,  and,  taking  an 
early  start,  we  went  at  once  down  to  the  store  to 
ask  if  the  butcher  had  been  seen,  but  finding  that 
he  had  gone  out  deep-sea  fishing  for  two  days,  and 
that  when  he  came  back  he  had  planned  to  kill  a 
veal,  we  left  word  for  a  sufficient  piece  of  the 
doomed  animal  to  be  set  apart  for  our  family,  and 
strolled  down  to  the  shore  to  see  if  we  could  find 
some  mackerel ;  but  there  was  not  a  fisherman  in 
sight,  and  after  going  to  all  the  fish-houses  we  con 
cluded  that  we  had  better  provide  for  ourselves. 
We  had  not  brought  our  own  lines,  but  we  knew 
where  Danny  kept  his,  and  after  finding  a  basket 
of  suitable  size,  and  taking  some  clams  from  Dan 
ny's  bait-tub,  we  went  over  to  the  hull  of  an  old 
schooner  which  was  going  to  pieces  alongside  one 
of  the  ruined  wharves.  We  looked  down  the  hatch 
way  into  the  hold,  and  could  see  the  flounders  and 
sculpin  swimming  about  lazily,  and  once  in  a  while 
a  little  pollock  scooted  down  among  them  imper 
tinently  and  then  disappeared.  "  There  is  that 
same  big  flounder  that  we  saw  day  before  yester 
day,"  said  I.  "  I  know  him  because  one  of  his  fins 


GUNNER-FISHING.  151 

is  half  gone.  I  don't  believe  he  can  get  out,  for 
the  hole  in  the  side  of  the  schooner  is  n't  very 
wide,  and  it  is  higher  up  than  flounders  ever  swim. 
Perhaps  he  came  in  when  he  was  young,  and  was 
too  lazy  to  go  out  until  he  was  so  large  he  could  n't. 
Flounders  always  look  so  lazy,  and  as  if  they 
thought  a  great  deal  of  themselves." 

"  I  hope  they  will  think  enough  of  themselves 
to  keep  away  from  my  hook  this  morning,"  said 
Kate,  philosophically,  "  and  the  sculpin  too.  I  am 
going  to  fish  for  cunners  alone,  and  keep  my  line 
short."  And  she  perched  herself  on  the  quarter, 
baited  her  hook  carefully,  and  threw  it  over,  with 
a  clam-shell  to  call  attention.  I  went  to  the  rail 
at  the  side,  and  we  were  presently  much  encour 
aged  by  pulling  up  two  small  cunners,  and  felt 
that  our  prospects  for  dinner  were  excellent. 
Then  I  unhappily  caught  so  large  a  sculpin  that 
it  was  like  pulling  up  an  open  umbrella,  and  after 
I  had  thrown  him  into  the  hold  to  keep  company 
with  the  flounder,  our  usual  good  luck  seemed  to 
desert  us.  It  was  one  of  the  days  when,  in  spite 
of  twitching  the  line  and  using  all  the  tricks  we 
could  think  of,  the  cunners  would  either  eat  our 
bait  or  keep  away  altogether.  Kate  at  last  said 
we  must  starve  unless  we  could  catch  the  big 


152  DEEP11AVEN. 

flounder,  and  asked  me  to  drop  my  hook  down  the 
hatchway  ;  but  it  seemed  almost  too  bad  to  destroy 
his  innocent  happiness.  Just  then  we  heard  the 
noise  of  oars,  and  to  our  delight  saw  Cap'n  Sands 
in  his  dory  just  beyond  the  next  wharf.  "  Any 
luck  ]  "  said  he.  "  S'pose  ye  don't  care  anything 
about  going  out  this  morning1?  " 

"  We  are  not  amusing  ourselves  ;  we  are  trying 
to  catch  some  fish  for  dinner,"  said  Kate.  "  Could 
you  wait  out  by  the  red  buoy  while  we  get  a  few 
more,  and  then  should  you  be  back  by  noon,  or  are 
you  going  for  a  longer  voyage,  Captain  Sands  ] " 

"  I  was  going  out  to  Black  Hock  for  dinners 
myself,"  said  the  cap'n.  "  I  should  be  pleased  to 
take  ye,  if  ye  'd  like  to  go."  So  we  wound  up  our 
lines,  and  took  our  basket  and  clams  and  went 
round  to  meet  the  boat.  I  felt  like  rowing,  and 
took  the  oars  while  Kate  was  mending  her  sinker 
and  the  cap'n  was  busy  with  a  snarled  line. 

"  It 's  pretty  hot,"  said  he,  presently,  "  but  I  see 
a  breeze  coming  in,  and  the  clouds  seem  to  be 
thickening  ;  I  guess  we  shall  have  it  cooler  'long 
towards  notfn.  It  looked  last  night  as  if  we  were 
going  to  have  foul  weather,  but  the  scud  seemed 
to  blow  off,  and  it  was  as  pretty  a  morning  as  ever 
I  see.  '  A  growing  moon  chaws  up  the  clouds,' 


GUNNER-FISHING.  153 

my  gran'ther  used  to  say.  He  was  as  knowing 
about  the  weather  as  anybody  I  ever  come  across  ; 
'most  always  hit  it  just  about  right.  Some  folks 
lay  all  the  weather  to  the  moon,  accordin'  to  where 
she  quarters,  and  when  she 's  in  perigee  we  're 
going  to  have  this  kind  of  weather,  and  when  she 's 
in  apogee  she  's  got  to  do  so  and  so  for  sartain ; 
but  gran'ther  he  used  to  laugh  at  all  them  things. 
He  said  it  never  made  no  kind  of  difference,  and 
he  went  by  the  looks  of  the  clouds  and  the  feel  of 
the  air,  and  he  thought  folks  could  n't  make  no 
kind  of  rules  that  held  good,  that  had  to  do  with 
the  moon.  Well,  he  did  use  to  depend  on  the 
moon  some  ;  everybody  knows  we  are  n't  so  likely 
to  have  foul  weather  in  a  growing  moon  as  we  be 
when  she 's  waning.  But  some  folks  I  could  name, 
they  can't  do  nothing  without  having  the  moon's 
opinion  on  it.  When  I  went  my  second  voyage 
afore  the  mast  we  was  in  port  ten  days  at  Cadiz, 
and  the  ship  she  needed  salting  dreadful.  The 
mate  kept  telling  the  captain  how  low  the  salt  was 
in  her,  and  we  was  going  a  long  voyage  from  there, 
but  no,  he  would  n't  have  her  salted  nohow,  be 
cause  it  was  the  wane  of  the  moon.  He  was  an 
amazing  set  kind  of  man,  the  cap'n  was,  and  would 
have  his  own  way  on  sea  or  shore.  The  mate  was 
5* 


154  DEEPHAVEN. 

his  own  brother,  and  they  used  to  fight  like  a  cat 
and  dog ;  they  owned  most  of  the  ship  between 
'em.  I  was  slushing  the  mizzeu-mast,  and  heard 
'em  a  disputin'  about  the  salt.  The  cap'n  was  a 
first-rate  seaman  and  died  rich,  but  he  was  dread 
ful  notional.  1  know  one  time  we  were  a  lyin'  out 
in  the  stream  all  ready  to  weigh  anchor,  and  every 
thing  was  in  trim,  the  men  were  up  in  the  rigging 
and  a  fresh  breeze  going  out,  just  what  we  'd  been 
waiting  for,  and  the  word  was  passed  to  take  in 
sail  and  make  everything  fast.  The  men  swore, 
and  everybody  said  the  cap'n  had  had  some  kind 
of  a  warning.  But  that  night  it  began  to  blow, 
and  I  tell  you  afore  morning  we  were  glad  enough 
we  were  in  harbor.  The  old  Victor  she  dragged  her 
anchor,  and  the  fore-to' -gallant  sail  and  r'yal  got 
loose  somehow  and  was  blown  out  of  the  bolt-ropes. 
Most  of  the  canvas  and  rigging  was  old,  but  we 
had  first-rate  weather  after  that,  and  did  n't  bend 
near  all  the  new  sail  we  had  aboard,  though  the 
cap'n  was  most  afraid  we  'd  come  short  when  we 
left  Boston.  That  was  'most  sixty  year  ago,"  said 
the  captain,  reflectively.  "  How  time  does  slip 
away  !  You  young  folks  have  n't  any  idea.  She 
was  a  first-rate  ship,  the  old  Victor  was,  though  I 
suppose  she  would  n't  cut  much  of  a  dash  now 
'longside  of  some  of  the  new  clippers. 


GUNNER-FISHING.  155 

"  There  used  to  be  some  strange-looking  crafts 
in  those  days ;  there  was  the  old  brig  Hannah. 
They  used  to  say  she  would  sail  backwards  as  fast 
as  forwards,  and  she  was  so  square  in  the  bows, 
they  used  to  call  her  the  sugar-box.  She  was 
master  old,  the  Hannah  was,  and  there  was  n't  a 
port  from  here  to  New  Orleans  where  she  was  n't 
known ;  she  used  to  carry  a  master  cargo  for  her 
size,  more  than  some  ships  that  ranked  two  hun 
dred  and  fifty  ton,  and  she  was  put  down  for  two 
hundred.  She  used  to  make  good  voyages,  the 
Hannah  did,  and  then  there  was  the  Pactolus ; 
she  was  just  about  such  another,  —  you  would 
have  laughed  to  see  her.  She  sailed  out  of  this 
port  for  a  good  many  years.  Cap'n  Wall  he  told 
me  that  if  he  had  her  before  the  wind  with  a  cargo 
of  cotton,  she  would  make  a  middling  good  run, 
but  load  her  deep  with  salt,  and  you  might  as  well 
try  to  sail  a  stick  of  oak  timber  with  a  hand 
kerchief.  She  was  a  stout-built  ship :  I  should  n't 
wonder  if  her  timbers  were  afloat  somewhere  yet ; 
she  was  sold  to  some  parties  out  in  San  Francisco. 
There !  everything 's  changed  from  what  it  was 
when  I  used  to  follow  the  sea.  I  wonder  some 
times  if  the  sailors  have  as  queer  works  aboard 
ship  as  they  used.  Bless  ye  !  Deephaven  used  to 


156  DEEPIIAVEN. 

be  a  different  place  to  what  it  is  now  ;  there  was 
hardly  a  day  in  the  year  that  you  did  n't  hear  the 
shipwrights'  hammers,  and  there  was  always  some 
thing  going  on  at  the  wharves.  You  would  see 
the  folks  from  up  country  comin'  in  with  their 
loads  of  oak  knees  and  plank,  and  logs  o'  rock- 
maple  for  keels  when  there  was  snow  on  the 
ground  in  winter-time,  and  the  big  sticks  of  tim 
ber-pine  for  masts  would  come  crawling  along  the 
road  with  their  three  and  four  yoke  of  oxen  all 
frosted  up,  the  sleds  creaking  and  the  snow  growl 
ing  and  the  men  flapping  their  arms  to  keep  warm, 
and  hallooing  as  if  there  wan't  nothin'  else  goin' 
on  in  the  world  except  to  get  them  masts  to  the 
ship-yard.  Bless  ye  !  two  o'  them  teams  together 
would  stretch  from  here  'most  up  to  the  Widow 
Jim's  place,  —  no  such  timber-pines  nowadays." 

"  I  suppose  the  sailors  are  very  jolly  together 
sometimes,"  said  Kate,  meditatively,  with  the  least 
nicker  of  a  smile  at  me.  The  captain  did  not 
answer  for  a  minute,  as  he  was  battling  with  an 
obstinate  snarl  in  his  line;  but  when  he  had  found 
the  right  loop  he  said,  "  I  've  had  the  best  times 
and  the  hardest  times  of  my  life  at  sea,  that's  cer 
tain  !  I  was  just  thinking  it  over  when  you  spoke. 
I  '11  tell  you  some  stories  one  day  or  'nother  that  '11 


GUNNER-FISHING.  157 

please  you.  Land  !  you  've  no  idea  what  tricks 
some  of  those  wild  fellows  will  be  up  to.  Now, 
saying  they  fetch  home  a  cargo  of  wines  and  they 
want  a  drink  ;  they  've  got  a  trick  so  they  can 
get  it.  Saying  it  's  champagne,  they  '11  fetch  up 
a  basket,  and  how  do  you  suppose  they  '11  get 
into  it  ] " 

Of  course  we  did  n't  know. 

"  Well,  every  basket  will  be  counted,  and  they're 
fastened  up  particular,  so  they  can  tell  in  a  min 
ute  if  they  've  been  tampered  with  ;  and  neither 
must  you  draw  the  corks  if  you  could  get  the 
basket  open.  I  suppose  ye  may  have  seen  cham 
pagne,  how  it's  all  wired  and  waxed.  Now,  they 
take  a  clean  tub,  them  fellows  do,  and  just  shake 
the  basket  and  jounce  it  up  and  down  till  they 
break  the  bottles  and  let  the  wine  drain  out ;  then, 
they  take  it  down  in  the  hold  and  put  it  back 
with  the  rest,  and  when  the  cargo  is  delivered 
there  's  only  one  or  two  whole  bottles  in  that 
basket,  and  there  's  a  dreadful  fuss  about  its  being 
stowed  so  foolish."  The  captain  told  this  with  an 
air  of  great  satisfaction,  but  we  did  not  show  the 
least  suspicion  that  he  might  have  assisted  at 
some  such  festivity. 

"  Then  they  have  a  way  of  breaking  into  a  cask. 


158  DEEPHAVEN. 

It  won't  do  to  start  the  bung,  and  it  won't  do  to 
bore  a  hole  where  it  can  be  seen,  but  they  're  up 
to  that  :  they  slip  back  one  of  the  end  hoops  and 
bore  two  holes  underneath  it,  one  for  the  air  to  go 
in  and  one  for  the  liquor  to  come  out,  and  after 
they  get  all  out  they  want  they  put  in  some 
spigots  and  cut  them  down  close  to  the  stave, 
knock  back  the  hoop  again,  and  there  ye  are,  all 
trig." 

"  I  never  should  have  thought  of  it,"  said  Kate, 
admiringly. 

"  There  is  n't  nothing,"  Cap'n  Sands  went  on, 
"  that  '11.  hender  some  masters  from  cheating  the 
owners  a  little.  Get  them  off  in  a  foreign  port,  and 
there  's  nobody  to  watch,  and  they  most  of  them 
have  a  feeling  that  they  ain't  getting  full  pay,  and 
they  '11  charge  things  to  the  ship  that  she  never 
seen  nor  heard  of.  There  were  two  shipmasters 
that  sailed  out  of  Salem.  I  heard  one  of  'em  tell 
the  story.  They  had  both  come  into  port  from 
Liverpool  nigh  the  same  time,  and  one  of  'em,  he 
was  dressed  up  in  a  handsome  suit  of  clothes,  and 
the  other  looked  kind  of  poverty-struck.  '  Where 
did  you  get  them  clothes  1 '  says  he.  '  Why,  to 
Liverpool,'  says  the  other ;  '  you  don't  mean  to  say 
you  come  away  without  none,  cheap  as  cloth  was 


C  UNNER-  FISHING.  159 

there  ]'  '  Why,  yes,'  says  the  other  cap'n,  —  '  I 
can't  afford  to  wear  such  clothes  as  those  be,  and 
I  don't  see  how  you  can,  either.'  '  Charge  'era  to 
the  ship,  bless  ye ;  the  owners  expect  it.' 

"  So  the  next  v'y'ge  the  poor  cap'n  he  had  a  nice 
rig  for  himself  made  to  the  best  tailor's  in  Bristol, 
and  charged  it,  say  ten  pounds,  in  the  ship's  ac 
count  ;  and  when  he  came  home  the  ship's  husband 
he  was  looking  over  the  papers,  and  '  What 's  this1? ' 
says  he,  '  how  come  the  ship  to  run  up  a  tailor's 
bill  1 '  '  Why,  them  's  mine,'  says  the  cap'n,  very 
meaching.  '  I  onderstood  that  there  would  n't  be 
no  objection  made.'  '  Well,  you  made  a  mistake,' 
says  the  other,  laughing;  'guess  I  'd  better  scratch 
this  out.'  And  it  was  n't  long  before  the  cap'n  met 
the  one  who  had  put  him  up  to  doing  it,  and  he 
give  him  a  blowing  up  for  getting  him  into  such  a 
fix.  '  Land  sakes  alive  ! '  says  he,  '  were  you  fool 
enough  to  set  it  down  in  the  account  1  Why,  I 
put  mine  in,  so  many  bolts  of  Russia  duck.'  " 

Captain  Sands  seemed  to  enjoy  this  reminiscence, 
and  to  our  satisfaction,  in  a  few  minutes,  after  he 
had  offered  to  take  the  oars,  he  went  on  to  tell  us 
another  story. 

"  Why,  as  for  cheating,  there  's  plenty  of  that 
all  over  the  world.  The  first  v'y'ge  I  went  into 


160  DEEPHAVEN. 

Havana  as  master  of  the  Deerhound,  she  had  never 
been  in  the  port  before  and  had  to  be  measured 
and  recorded,  and  then  pay  her  tonnage  duties 
every  time  she  went  into  port  there  afterward, 
according  to  what  she  was  registered  on  the  cus 
tom-house  books.  The  inspector  he  come  aboard, 
and  he  went  below  and  looked  round,  and  he  meas 
ured  her  between  decks  ;  but  he  never  offered  to 
set  down  any  figgers,  and  when  we  came  back 
into  the  cabin,  says  he,  'Yes  —  yes  —  good  ship  ! 
you  put  one  doubloon  front  of  this  eye,  so  / '  says 
he,  '  an'  I  not  see  with  him  ;  and  you  put  one  more 
doubloon  front  of  other  eye,  and  how  you  think 
I  see  at  all  what  figger  you  write  ? '  So  I  took  his 
book  and  I  set  down  her  measurements  and  made 
her  out  twenty  ton  short,  and  he  took  his  doub 
loons  and  shoved  'em  into  his  pocket.  There,  it 
is  n't  what  you  call  straight  dealing,  but  every 
body  done  it  that  dared,  and  you  'd  eat  up  all  the 
profits  of  a  v'y'ge  and  the  owners  would  just  as 
soon  you  'd  try  a  little  up-country  air,  if  you  paid 
all  those  dues  according  to  law.  Tonnage  was 
dreadful  high  and  wharfage  too,  in  some  ports, 
and  they  'd  get  your  last  cent  some  way  or  'nother 
if  ye  were  n't  sharp. 

"Old  Cap'n  Carew,  uncle  to  them  ye  see  to  meet- 


GUNNER-FISHING.  161 

ing,  did  a  smart  thing  in  the  time  of  the  embargo. 
Folks  got  tired  of  it,  and  it  was  dreadful  hard 
times ;  ships  rotting  at  the  wharves,  and  Deep- 
haven  never  was  quite  the  same  afterward,  though 
the  old  place  held  out  for  a  good  while  before  she 
let  go  as  ye  see  her  now.  You  'd  'a'  had  a  hard 
grip  on't  when  I  was  a  young  man  to  make  me 
believe  it  would  ever  be  so  dull  here.  Well, 
Cap'n  Carew  he  bought  an  old  brig  that  was  lying 
over  by  East  Parish,  and  he  began  fitting  her 
up  and  loading  her  for  the  West  Indies,  and  the 
farmers  they  'd  come  in  there  by  night  from  all 
round  the  country,  to  sell  salt-fish  and  lumber 
and  potatoes,  and  glad  enough  they  were,  I  tell  ye. 
The  rigging  was  put  in  order,  and  it  was  n't  long 
before  she  was  ready  to  sail,  and  it  was  all  kept 
mighty  quiet.  She  lay  up  to  an  old  wharf  in  a 
cove  where  she  would  n't  be  much  noticed,  and 
they  took  care  not  to  paint  her  any  or  to  attract 
any  attention. 

"  One  day  Cap'n  Carew  was  over  in  Riverport 
dining  out  with  some  gentlemen,  and  the  revenue 
officer  sat  next  to  him,  and  by  and  by  says  he, 
'  Why  won't  ye  take  a  ride  with  me  this  after 
noon  ]  I  've  had  warning  that  there  's  a  brig  load 
ing  for  the  West  Indies  over  beyond  Deephaven 

K 


162  DEEPHAVEN. 

somewheres,  and  I'm  going  over  to  seize  her.' 
And  he  laughed  to  himself  as  if  he  expected  fun, 
and  something  in  his  pocket  beside.  Well,  the 
first  minute  that  Cap'n  Carew  dared,  after  dinner, 
he  slipped  out,  and  he  hired  the  swiftest  horse 
in  Iliverport  and  rode  for  dear  life,  and  told  the 
folks  who  were  in  the  secret,  and  some  who  were  n't, 
what  was  the  matter,  and  every  soul  turned  to 
and  helped  finish  loading  her  and  getting  the  rig 
ging  ready  and  the  water  aboard  ;  but  just  as  they 
were  leaving  the  cove — the  wind  was  blowing 
just  right  —  along  came  the  revenue  officer  with 
two  or  three  men,  and  they  come  off  in  a  boat  and 
boarded  her  as  important  as  could  be. 

"  '  Won't  ye  step  into  the  cabin,  gentlemen,  and 
take  a  glass  o'  wine  1 '  says  Cap'n  Carew,  very 
polite  ;  and  the  wind  came  in  fresher,  —  something 
like  a  squall  for  a  few  minutes,  —  and  the  men 
had  the  sails  spread  before  you  could  say  Jack 
Ilobi'son,  and  before  those  fellows  knew  what  they 
were  about  the  old  brig  was  a  standing  out  to  sea, 
and  the  folks  on  the  wharves  cheered  and  yelled. 
The  Cap'n  gave  the  officers  a  good  scare  and  offered 
'em  a  free  passage  to  the  West  Indies,  and  finally 
they  said  they  would  n't  report  at  headquarters  if 
he  'd  let  'em  go  ashore ;  so  he  told  the  sailors  to 


CUNNE  R-FISHINQ.  1 6  3 

lower  their  boat  about  two  miles  off  Deephaven, 
and  they  pulled  ashore  meek  enough.  Cap'n 
Carew  had  a  first-rate  run,  and  made  a  lot  of 
money,  so  I  have  heard  it  said.  Bless  ye !  every 
shipmaster  would  have  done  just  the  same  if  he 
had  dared,  and  everybody  was  glad  when  they 
heard  about  it.  Dreadful  foolish  piece  of  business 
that  embargo  was  ! 

"  Now  I  declare,"  said  Captain  Sands,  after  he 
had  finished  this  narrative,  "  here  I  'm  a  telling 
stories  and  you  're  doin'  all  the  work.  You  '11  pull 
a  boat  ahead  of  anybody,  if  you  keep  on.  Tom 
Kew  was  a-praisin'  up  both  of  you  to  me  the 
other  day  :  says  he,  '  They  don't  put  on  no  airs,  but 
I  tell  ye  they  can  pull  a  boat  well,  and  swim  like 
fish,'  says  he.  There  now,  if  you  '11  give  me  the 
oars  I'll  put  the  dory  just  where  I  want  her,  and 
you  can  be  getting  your  lines  ready.  I  know  a 
place  here  where  it 's  always  toler'ble  fishing,  and 
I  guess  we  '11  get  something." 

Kate  and  I  cracked  our  clams  on  the  gunwale 
of  the  boat,  and  cut  them  into  nice  little  bits  for 
bait  with  a  piece  of  the  shell,  and  by  the  time  the 
captain  had  thrown  out  the  killick  we  were  ready 
to  begin,  and  found  the  fishing  much  more  excit 
ing  than  it  had  been  at  the  wharf. 


164  DEEPHAVEN. 

"I  don't  know  as  I  ever  see  'em  bite  faster," 
said  the  old  sailor,  presently  ;  "  guess  it 's  because 
they  like  the  folks  that's  fishing.  Well,  I'm 
pleased.  I  thought  I  'd  let  'Bijah  take  some  along 
to  Deuby  in  the  cart  to-morrow  if  I  got  more  than 
I  could  use  at  home.  I  did  n't  calc'late  on  hav 
ing  such  a  lively  crew  aboard.  I  s'pose  ye  would 
n't  care  about  going  out  a  little  further  by  and 
by  to  see  if  we  can't  get  two  or  three  haddock  1 " 
And  we  answered  that  we  should  like  nothing 
better. 

It  was  growing  cloudy,  and  was  much  cooler,  — 
the  perfection  of  a  day  for  fishing,  —  and  we  sat 
there  diligently  pulling  in  dinners,  and  talking  a 
little  once  in  a  while.  The  tide  was  nearly  out, 
and  Black  Rock  looked  almost  large  enough  to  be 
called  an  island.  The  sea  was  smooth  and  the 
low  waves  broke  lazily  among  the  seaweed-cov 
ered  ledges,  while  our  boat  swayed  about  on  the 
water,  lifting  and  falling  gently  as  the  waves  went 
in  shore.  We  were  not  a  very  long  way  from  the 
lighthouse,  and  once  we  could  see  Mrs.  Kew's  big 
white  apron  as  she  stood  in  the  doorway  for  a  few 
minutes.  There  was  no  noise  except  the  plash  of 
the  low-tide  waves  and  the  occasional  flutter  of  a 
fish  in  the  bottom  of  the  dory.  Kate  and  I  alwa3rs 


GUNNER-FISHING.  1G5 

killed  our  fish  at  once  by  a  rap  on  the  head,  for  it 
certainly  saved  the  poor  creatures  much  discom 
fort,  and  ourselves  as  well,  and  it  made  i*  easier 
to  take  them  off  the  hook  than  if  they  were  flop 
ping  about  and  making  us  aware  of  our  cruelty. 

Suddenly  the  captain  wound  up  his  line  and 
said  he  thought  we  'd  better  be  going  in,  and  Kate 
and  I  looked  at  him  with  surprise.  "  It  is  only  half 
past  ten,"  said  I,  looking  at  my  watch.  "  Don't 
hurry  in  on  our  account,"  added  Kate,  persuasively, 
for  we  were  having  a  very  good  time. 

"  I  guess  we  won't  mind  about  the  haddock. 
I  've  got  a  feelin'  we  'd  better  go  ashore."  And  he 
looked  up  into  the  sky  and  turned  to  see  the  west. 
"I  knew  there  was  something  the  matter;  there's 
going  to  be  a  shower."  And  we  looked  behind  us 
to  see  a  bank  of  heavy  clouds  coming  over  fast. 
"  I  wish  we  had  two  pair  of  oars,"  said  Captain 
Sands.  "  I  'm  afraid  we  shall  get  caught." 

"  You  need  n't  mind  us,"  said  Kate.  "  We  are  n't 
in  the  least  afraid  of  our  clothes,  and  we  don't  get 
cold  when  we  're  wet ;  we  have  made  sure  of  that." 

"  Well,  I  'in  glad  to  hear  that,"  said  the  cap'n. 
"  Women-folks  are  apt  to  be  dreadful  scared  of  a 
wetting;  but  I'd  just  as  lief  not  get  wet  myself. 
I  had  a  twinge  of  rheumatism  yesterday.  I  guess 


1GG  DEEPIIAVEN. 

we  '11  get  ashoro  fast  enough.  No.  I  feel  well 
enough  to-day,  but  you  can  row  if  you  want  to, 
and  I  11  take  the  oars  the  last  part  of  the  way." 

When  we  reached  the  moorings  the  clouds  were 
black,  and  the  thunder  rattled  and  boomed  over 
the  sea,  while  heavy  spatters  of  rain  were  already 
falling.  We  did  not  go  to  the  wharves,  but  stopped 
down  the  shore  at  the  fish-houses,  the  nearer  place 
of  shelter.  "  You  just  select  some  of  those  cun- 
ners,"  said  the  captain,  who  was  beginning  to  be  a 
little  out  of  breath,  "  and  then  you  can  run  right 
up  and  get  under  cover,  and  I  '11  put  a  bit  of  old 
sail  over  the  rest  of  the  fish  to  keep  the  fresh 
water  off."  By  the  time  the  boat  touched  the 
shore  and  we  had  pulled  it  up  on  the  pebbles,  the 
rain  had  begun  in  good  earnest.  Luckily  there 
was  a  barrow  lying  near,  and  we  loaded  that  in  a 
hurry,  and  just  then  the  captain  caught  sight  of  a 
well-known  red  shirt  in  an  open  door,  and  shouted, 
"  Halloa,  Danny  !  lend  us  a  hand  with  these  fish, 
for  we  're  nigh  on  to  being  shipwrecked."  And 
then  we  ran  up  to  the  fish-house  and  waited 
awhile,  though  we  stood  in  the  doorway  watching 
the  lightning,  and  there  were  so  many  leaks  in  the 
roof  that  we  might  almost  as  well  have  been  out 
of  doors.  It  was  one  of  Danny's  quietest  days, 


GUNNER-FISHING.  167 

and  he  silently  beheaded  hake,  only  winking  at  us 
once  very  gravely  at  something  our  other  com 
panion  said. 

"  There  1  "  said  Captain  Sands,  "  folks  may  say 
what  they  have  a  mind  to ;  I  did  n't  see  that 
shower  coming  up,  and  I  know  as  well  as  I  want 
to  that  my  wife  did,  and  impressed  it  on  my  mind. 
Our  house  sets  high,  and  she  watches  the  sky  and 
is  al'ays  a  worrying  when  I  go  out  fishing  for  fear 
something 's  going  to  happen  to  me,  'specially  sence 
I  've  got  to  be  along  in  years." 

This  was  just  what  Kate  and  I  wished  to  hear, 
for  we  had  been  told  that  Captain  Sands  had  most 
decided  opinions  on  dreams  and  other  mysteries, 
and  could  tell  some  stories  which  were  considered 
incredible  by  even  a  Deephaven  audience,  to  whom 
the  marvellous  was  of  every -day  occurrence. 

"  Then  it  has  happened  before  1 "  asked  Kate. 
"I  wondered  why  you  started  so  suddenly  to  come 
in." 

"  Happened  ! "  said  the  captain.  "  Bless  ye, 
yes  !  I  '11  tell  you  my  views  about  these  p'ints  one 
o'  those  days.  I  've  thought  a  good  deal  about 
'em  by  spells.  Not  that  I  can  explain  'em,  nor 
anybody  else,  but  it  'a  no  use  to  laugh  at  'em  as 
some  folks  do.  Cap'n  Lant  —  you  know  Cap'n 


168  DEEPHAVEN. 

Lant  ?  —  he  and  I  have  talked  it  over  consider'ble, 
and  he  says  to  me,  '  Everybody  's  got  some  story 
of  the  kind  they  will  believe  in  spite  of  everything, 
and  yet  they  won't  believe  yourn.' " 

The  shower  seemed  to  be  over  now,  and  we  felt 
compelled  to  go  home,  as  the  captain  did  not  go  on 
with  his  remarks.  I  hope  he  did  not  see  Danny's 
wink.  Skipper  Scudder,  who  was  Danny's  friend 
and  partner,  came  up  just  then  and  asked  us  if 
we  knew  what  the  sign  was  when  the  sun  came 
out  through  the  rain.  I  said  that  I  had  always 
heard  it  would  rain  again  next  day.  "  0  no,"  said 
Skipper  Scudder,  "the  Devil  is  whipping  his  wife." 

After  dinner  Kate  and  I  went  for  a  walk  through 
some  pine  woods  which  were  beautiful  after  the 
rain  ;  the  mosses  and  lichens  which  had  been  dried 
up  were  all  freshened  and  blooming  out  in  the 
dampness.  The  smell  of  the  wet  pitch-pines  was 
unusually  sweet,  and  we  wandered  about  for  an 
hour  or  two  there,  to  find  some  ferns  we  wanted, 
and  then  walked  over  toward  East  Parish,  and 
home  by  the  long  beach  late  in  the  afternoon.  We 
came  as  far  as  the  boat-landing,  meaning  to  go 
home  through  the  lane,  but  to  our  delight  we  saw 
Captain  Sands  sitting  alone  on  an  old  overturned 
whale-boat,  whittling  busily  at  a  piece  of  dried 


CUNNER-FISHING.  169 

kelp.  "  Good  evenin',"  said  our  friend,  cheerfully. 
And  we  explained  that  we  had  taken  a  long  walk 
and  thought  we  would  rest  awhile  before  we  went 
home  to  supper.  Kate  perched  herself  on  the  boat, 
and  I  sat  down  on  a  ship's  knee  which  lay  on  the 
pebbles. 

"  Did  n't  get  any  hurt  from  being  out  in  the 
shower,  I  hope  ]  " 

"  No,  indeed,"  laughed  Kate,  "and  we  had  such 
a  good  time.  I  hope  you  won't  mind  taking  us 
out  again  some  time.'' 

"  Bless  ye  !  no,  "  said  the  captain.  "  My  giii 
Lo'isa,  she  that 's  Mis  Winslow  over  to  Riverport, 
used  to  go  out  with  me  a  good  deal,  and  it  seemed 
natural  to  have  you  aboard.  I  missed  Lo'isa  after 
she  got  married,  for  she  was  al'ays  ready  to  go 
anywhere  'long  of  father.  She  's  had  slim  health 
of  late  years.  I  tell  'em  she  's  been  too  much  shut 
up  out  of  the  fresh  air  and  sun.  When  she  was 
young  her  mother  never  could  pr'vail  on  her  to  set 
in  the  house  stiddy  and  sew,  and  she  used  to  have 
great  misgivin's  that  Lo'isa  never  was  going  to  be 
capable.  How  about  those  fish  you  caught  this 
morning'?  good,  were  they  1  Mis  Sands  had  dinner 
on  the  stocks  when  I  got  home,  and  she  said  she 
would  n't  fry  any  'til  supper-time  ;  but  I  calc'lated 


1 70  DEEPHA  VEX. 

to  have  'em  this  noon.  I  like  'em  best  right  out 
o'  the  water.  Little  more  and  we  should  have  got 
them  wet.  That 's  one  of  my  whims ;  I  can't  bear 
to  let  fish  get  rained  on." 

"  0  Captain  Sands  ! "  said  I,  there  being  a  con 
venient  pause,  "you  were  speaking  of  your  wife 
just  now  ;  did  you  ask  her  if  she  saw  the  shower  1 " 

"  First  thing  she  spoke  of  when  I  got  into  the 
house.  '  There,'  says  she,  '  I  was  afraid  you 
would  n't  see  the  rain  coming  in  time,  and  I  had 
my  heart  in  my  mouth  when  it  began  to  thunder. 
I  thought  you  'd  get  soaked  through,  and  be  laid 
up  for  a  fortnight,'  says  she.  '  I  guess  a  summer 
shower  won't  hurt  an  old  sailor  like  me,'  says  I." 
And  the  captain  reached  for  another  piece  of  his 
kelp-stalk,  and  whittled  away  more  busily  than 
ever.  Kate  took  out  her  knife  and  also  began  to 
cut  kelp,  and  I  threw  pebbles  in  the  hope  of  hit 
ting  a  spider  which  sat  complacently  on  a  stone 
not  far  away,  and  when  he  suddenly  vanished 
there  was  nothing  for  me  to  do  but  to  whittle 
kelp  also. 

"  Do  you  suppose,"  said  Kate,  "  that  Mrs.  Sands 
really  made  you  know  about  that  shower  1 " 

The  captain  put  on  his  most  serious  look, 
coughed  slowly,  and  moved  himself  a  few  inches 


GUNNER-FISHING.  171 

nearer  us,  along  the  boat.  I  think  he  fully  under 
stood  the  impoi-tance  and  solemnity  of  the  subject. 
"  It  ain't  for  us  to  say  what  we  do  know  or  don't, 
for  there  's  nothing  sartain,  but  I  made  up  my 
mind  long  ago  that  there  's  something  about  these 
p'ints  that 's  myster'ous.  My  wife  and  me  will  be 
sitting  there  to  home  and  there  won't  be  no  word 
between  us  for  an  hour,  and  then  of  a  sudden 
\vc  '11  speak  up  about  the  same  thing.  Now  the 
\\  ay  I  view  it,  she  either  puts  it  into  my  head  or 
I  into  hers.  I  've  spoke  up  lots  of  times  about 
something,  when  I  did  n't  know  what  I  was  going 
to  say  when  I  began,  and  she  '11  say  she  was  just 
thinking  of  that.  Like  as  not  you  have  noticed  it 
sometimes1?  There  was  something  my  mind  was 
dwellin'  on  yesterday,  and  she  come  right  out  with 
it,  and  I  'd  a  good  deal  rather  she  had  n't,"  said 
the  captain,  ruefully.  "  I  did  n't  want  to  rake  it 
all  over  ag'in,  /  'm  sure."  And  then  he  recollected 
himself,  and  was  silent,  which  his  audience  must 
confess  to  have  regretted  for  a  moment. 

"  I  used  to  think  a  good  deal  about  such  things 
when  I  was  younger,  and  I  'm  free  to  say  I  took 
more  stock  in  dreams  and  such  like  than  I  do 
now.  I  rec'lect  old  Parson  Lorimer  —  this  Parson 
Lorimer's  father  who  was  settled  here  first  — 


172  DEEPHAVEN. 

spoke  to  me  once  about  it,  and  said  it  was  a 
tempting  of  Providence,  and  that  we  had  n't  no 
right  to  pry  into  secrets.  I  know  I  had  a  dream- 
book  then  that  I  picked  up  in  a  shop  in  Bristol 
once  when  I  was  in  there  on  the  Ranger,  and  all 
the  young  folks  were  beset  to  get  sight  of  it.  I 
see  what  fools  it  made  of  folks,  bothering  their 
heads  about  such  things,  and  I  pretty  much  let 
them  go  :  all  this  stuff  about  spirit-rappings  is 
enough  to  make  a  man  crazy.  You  don't  get  no 
good  by  it.  I  come  across  a  paper  once  with  a  lot 
of  letters  in  it  from  sperits,  and  I  cast  my  eye 
over  'em,  and  I  says  to  myself,  '  Well,  I  always 
was  given  to  understand  that  when  we  come  to  a 
futur'  state  we  was  goin'  to  have  more  wisdom 
than  we  can  get  afore ' ;  but  them  letters  had  n't 
any  more  sense  to  'em,  nor  so  much,  as  a  man 
could  write  here  without  schooling,  and  I  should 
think  that  if  the  letters  be  all  straight,  if  the  folks 
who  wrote  'em  had  any  kind  of  ambition  they  'd 
want  to  be  movin'  back  here  again.  But  as  for 
one  person's  having  something  to  do  with  another 
any  distance  off',  why,  that 's  another  thing ; 
there  ain't  any  nonsense  about  that.  I  know  it 's 
true  jest  as  well  as  I  want  to,"  said  the  cap'n, 
warming  up.  "  I  '11  tell  ye  how  I  was  led  to  make 


GUNNER-FISHING.  173 

up  my  mind  about  it.  One  time  I  waked  a  man  up 
out  of  a  sound  sleep  looking  at  him,  and  it  set 
me  to  thinking.  First,  there  was  n't  any  noise, 
and  then  ag'in  there  was  n't  any  touch  so  he  could 
feel  it,  and  I  says  to  myself,  '  Why  could  n't  I  ha' 
done  it  the  width  of  two  rooms  as  well  as  one,  and 
why  could  n't  I  ha'  done  it  with  my  back  turned  ? ' 
It  could  n't  have  been  the  looking  so  much  as  the 
thinking.  And  then  I  car'd  it  further,  and  I  says, 
'  Why  ain't  a  mile  as  good  as  a  yard  1  and  it 's  the 
thinking  that  does  it,'  says  I,  '  and  we  've  got  some 
faculty  or  other  that  we  don't  know  much  about. 
We  've  got  some  way  of  sending  our  thought  like 
a  bullet  goes  out  of  a  gun  and  it  hits.  We  don't 
know  nothing  except  what  we  see.  And  some 
folks  is  scared,  and  some  more  thinks  it  is  all  non 
sense  and  laughs.  But  there 's  something  we 
have  n't  got  the  hang  of.'  It  makes  me  think  o' 
them  little  black  polliwogs  that  turns  into  frogs 
in  the  fresh-water  puddles  in  the  ma'sh.  There  's 
a  time  before  their  tails  drop  off  and  their  legs 
have  sprouted  out,  when  they  don't  get  any  use  o' 
their  legs,  and  I  dare  say  they  're  in  their  way 
consider'ble ;  but  after  they  get  to  be  frogs  they 
find  out  what  they  're  for  without  no  kind  of 
trouble.  I  guess  we  shall  turn  these  fac'lties  to 


174  DEEPHAVEN. 

account  some  time  or  'nother.  Seems  to  me, 
though,  that  we  might  depend  on  'em  now  more 
than  \ve  do." 

The  captain  was  under  full  sail  on  what  we 
had  heard  was  his  pet  subject,  and  it  was  a 
great  satisfaction  to  listen  to  what  he  had  to  say. 
It  loses  a  great  deal  in  being  written,  for  the  old 
sailor's  voice  and  gestures  and  thorough  earnest 
ness  all  carried  no  little  persuasion.  And  it  was 
impossible  not  to  be  sure  that  he  knew  more  than 
people  usually  do  about  these  mysteries  in  which 
he  delighted. 

"Now,  how  can  yon  account  for  this?"  said  he. 
"  I  remember  not  more  than  ten  years  ago  my 
son's  wife  was  stopping  at  our  house,  and  she  had 
left  her  child  at  home  while  she  come  away  for  a 
rest.  And  after  she  had  been  there  two  or  three 
days,  one  morning  she  was  sitting  in  the  kitchen 
'long  o'  the  folks,  and  all  of  a  sudden  she  jumped 
out  of  her  chair  and  ran  into  the  bedroom,  and 
next  minute  she  come  out  laughing,  and  looking 
kind  of  scared.  '  I  could  ha'  taken  my  oath,'  says 
she,  '  that  I  heard  Katy  cryin'  out  mother,'  says 
she,  'just  as  if  she  was  hurt.  I  heard  it  so  plain 
that  before  I  stopped  to  think  it  seemed  as  if  she 
were  right  in  the  next  room.  I  'in  afeard  some- 


GUNNER-FISHING.  175 

thing  has  happened.'  But  the  folks  laughed,  and 
said  she  must  ha'  heard  one  of  the  lambs.  '  No,  it 
was  n't,'  says  she,  '  it  was  Katy.'  And  sure  enough, 
just  after  dinner  a  young  man  who  lived  neighbor 
to  her  come  riding  into  the  yard  post-haste  to  get 
her  to  go  home,  for  the  baby  had  pulled  some  hot 
water  over  on  to  herself  and  was  nigh  scalded 
to  death  and  cryin'  for  her  mother  every  minute. 
Now,  who  's  going  to  explain  that  ]  It  was  n't  any 
common  hearing  that  heard  that  child's  cryin' 
fifteen  miles.  And  I  can  tell  you  another  thing 
that  happened  among  my  own  folks.  There  was 
an  own  cousin  of  mine  married  to  a  man  by  the 
name  of  John  Hathorn.  He  was  trading  up  to 
Parsonsfield,  and  business  run  down,  so  he  wound 
up  there,  and  thought  he  'd  make  a  new  start. 
He  moved  down  to  Denby,  and  while  he  was 
getting  under  way,  he  left  his  family  up  to  the 
old  place,  and  at  the  time  I  speak  of,  was  going 
to  move  'em  down  in  about  a  fortnight. 

"One  morning  his  wife  was  fidgeting  round,  and 
finally  she  came  down  stairs  with  her  bonnet  and 
shawl  on,  and  said  somebody  must  put  the  horse 
right  into  the  wagon  and  take  her  down  to  Denby. 
'  Why,  what  for,  mother  1 '  they  says.  '  Don't 
stop  to  talk,'  says  she;  'your  father  is  sick,  and 


17G  DEEPHAVEN. 

wants  me.  It 's  been  a  worrying  me  since  before 
day,  and  I  can't  stand  it  no  longer.'  And  the 
short  of  the  story  is  that  she  kept  hurrying  'em 
faster  and  faster,  and  then  she  got  hold  of  the 
reins  herself,  and  when  they  got  within  five  miles 
of  the  place  the  horse  fell  dead,  and  she  was  nigh 
about  crazy,  and  they  took  another  horse  at  a 
farm-house  on  the  road.  It  was  the  spring  of  the 
year,  and  the  going  was  dreadful,  and  when  they 
got  to  the  house  John  Hathorn  had  just  died,  and 
he  had  been  calling  for  his  wife  up  to  'most  the 
last  breath  he  drew.  He  had  been  taken  sick 
sudden  the  day  before,  but  the  folks  knew  it  was 
bad  travelling,  and  that  she  was  a  feeble  woman  to 
come  near  thirty  miles,  and  they  had  no  idee  he 
was  so  bad  off.  I  'm  telling  you  the  living  truth," 
said  Captain  Sands,  with  an  emphatic  shake  of  his 
head.  "  There  's  more  folks  than  me  can  tell 
about  it,  and  if  you  were  goin'  to  keel-haul  me 
next  minute,  and  hang  me  to  the  yard-arm  after 
ward,  I  could  n't  say  it  different.  I  was  up  to 
Parsonsfield  to  the  funeral;  it  was  just  after  I  quit 
following  the  sea.  I  never  saw  a  woman  so  broke 
down  a3  she  was.  John  was  a  nice  man  ;  stiddy 
and  pleasant-spoken  and  straightforrard  and  kind 
to  his  folks.  He  belonged  to  the  Odd  Fejlows,  and 


GUNNER-FISHING.  177 

they  all  marched  to  the  funeral.  There  was  a 
good  deal  of  respect  shown  him,  I  tell  ye. 

"  There  is  another  story  I  'd  like  to  have  ye 
hear,  if  it 's  so  that  you  ain't  beat  out  hearing  me 
talk.  When  I  get  going  I  slip  along  as  easy  as  a 
schooner  wing-and-wing  afore  the  wind. 

"  This  happened  to  my  own  father,  but  I  never 
heard  him  say  much  about  it ;  never  could  get 
him  to  talk  it  over  to  any  length,  best  I  could  do. 
But  gran'ther,  his  father,  told  me  about  it  nigh 
upon  fifty  times,  first  and  last,  and  always  the 
same  way.  Gran'ther  lived  to  be  old,  and  there 
was  ten  or  a  dozen  years  after  his  wife  died  that 
he  lived  year  and  year  about  with  Uncle  Tobias's 
folks  and  our  folks.  Uncle  Tobias  lived  over  on 
the  Ridge.  I  got  home  from  my  first  v'y'ge  as 
mate  of  the  Daylight  just  in  time  for  his  funeral. 
I  was  disapp'inted  to  find  the  old  man  was  gone. 
I  'd  fetched  him  some  first-rate  tobacco,  for  he  was 
a  great  hand  to  smoke,  and  I  was  calc'latin'  on  his 
being  pleased  :  old  folks  like  to  be  thought  of,  and 
then  he  set  more  by  me  than  by  the  other  boys. 
I  know  I  used  to  be  sorry  for  him  when  I  was  a 
little  fellow.  My  father's  second  wife  she  was  a 
well-meaning  woman,  but  an  awful  driver  with  her 
work,  and  she  was  always  making  of  him  feel  he 


178  DEEPHAVEN. 

was  n't  no  use.  I  do'  know  as  she  meant  to,  either. 
He  never  said  nothing,  and  he  was  always  just  so 
pleasant,  and  he  was  fond  of  his  book,  and  used 
to  set  round  reading,  and  tried  to  keep  himself  out 
of  the  way  just  as  much  as  he  could.  There  was 
one  winter  when  I  was  small  that  I  had  the  scar 
let-fever,  and  was  very  slim  for  a  long  time  after 
ward,  and  I  used  to  keep  along  o'  gran'ther,  and 
he  would  tell  me  stories.  He  'd  been  a  sailor,  — 
it  runs  in  our  blood  to  foller  the  sea,  —  and  he  'd 
been  wrecked  two  or  three  times  and  been  taken 
by  the  Algerine  pirates.  You  remind  me  to  tell 
you  some  time  about  that ;  and  I  wonder  if  you 
ever  heard  about  old  Citizen  Leigh,  that  used  to 
be  about  here  when  I  was  a  boy.  Ho  was  taken 
by  the  Algerines  once,  same  's  gran'ther,  and  they 
was  dreadful  ferce  just  then,  and  they  sent  him 
home  to  get  the  ransom  money  for  the  crew ;  but 
it  was  a  monstrous  price  they  asked,  and  the 
owners  would  n't  give  it  to  him,  and  they  s'posed 
likely  the  men  was  dead  by  that  time,  any  way. 
Old  Citizen  Leigh  he  went  crazy,  and  used  to  go 
about  the  sti-eets  with  a  bundle  of  papers  in  his 
hands  year  in  and  year  out.  I  've  seen  him  a 
good  many  times.  Gran'ther  used  to  tell  me  how 
he  escaped.  I  '11  remember  it  for  ye  some  day  if 
you  '11  put  me  in  mind. 


GUNNER-FISHING.  179 

"  I  got  to  be  mate  when  I  was  twenty,  and  I 
was  &3  strong  a  fellow  as  yon  could  scare  up,  and 
darin'  !  —  why,  it  makes  my  blood  run  cold  when 
I  think  of  the  reckless  things  I  used  to  do.  'I  was 
oft'  at  sea  after  I  was  fifteen  year  old,  and  there 
was  n't  anybody  so  glad  to  see  me  as  gran'ther 
when  I  came  home.  I  expect  he  used  to  be  lone 
some  after  I  went  off,  but  then  his  mind  failed 
him  quite  a  while  before  he  died.  Father  was 
clever  to  him,  and  he  'd  get  him  anything  he  spoke 
about ;  but  he  was  n't  a  man  to  set  round  and 
talk,  and  he  never  took  notice  himself  when  gran'- 
tlier  was  out  of  tobacco,  so  sometimes  it  would  be 
a  day  or  two.  I  know  better  how  he  used  to  feel 
now  that  I  'm  getting  to  be  along  in  years  myself, 
and  likely  to  be  some  care  to  the  folks  before  long. 
I  never  could  bear  to  see  old  folks  neglected ;  nice 
old  men  and  women  who  have  worked  hard  in 
their  day  and  been  useful  and  willin'.  I  've  seen 
'em  many  a  time  when  they  could  n't  help  know 
ing  that  the  folks  would  a  little  rather  they  'd  be 
in  heaven,  and  a  good  respectable  headstone  put 
up  for  'em  in  the  burying-ground.  . 

"  Well,  now,  I  'm  sure  1  've  forgot  what  I  was 
going  to  tell  you.  0,  yes ;  about  grandmother 
dreaming  about  father  when  he  come  home  from 


180  DEEPHAVEN. 

sea.  Well,  to  go  back  to  the  first  of  it,  gran'thor 
never  was  rugged  ;  he  had  ship-fever  when  he  was 
a  young  man,  and  though  he  lived  to  be  so  old, 
he  never  could  work  hard  and  never  got  fore 
handed  ;  and  Aunt  Hannah  Starbird  over  at  East 
Parish  took  my  sister  to  fetch  up,  because  she 
was  named  for  her,  and  Melinda  and  Tobias  stayed 
at  home  with  the  old  folks,  and  my  father  went  to 
live  with  an  uncle  over  in  Rivcrport,  whom  he  was 
named  for.  He  was  in  the  West  India  trade  and 
was  well-off,  and  he  had  no  children,  so  they 
expected  he  would  do  well  by  father.  He  was 
dreadful  high-tempered.  I  've  heard  say  he  had 
the  worst  temper  that  was  ever  raised  in  Deep- 
haven. 

"One  day  he  set  father  to  putting  some  cherries 
into  a  bar'l  of  rum,  and  went  off  down  to  his  wharf 
to  see  to  the  loading  of  a  vessel,  and  afore  he  come 
back  father  found  he  'd  got  hold  of  the  wrong 
bar'l,  and  had  sp'ilt  a  bar'l  of  the  best  Holland  gin  ; 
he  tried  to  get  the  cherries  out,  but  that  was  n't 
any  use,  and  he  was  dreadful  afraid  of  Uncle 
Matthew,  and  he  run  away,  and  never  was  heard 
of  from  that  time  out.  They  supposed  he  'd  run 
away  to  sea,  as  he  had  a  leaning  that  way,  but 
nobody  ever  knew  for  certain ;  and  his  mother 


GUNNER-FISHING.  181 

she  'most  mourned  herself  to  death.  Gran'ther 
told  me  that  it  got  so  at  last  that  if  they  could 
only  know  for  sure  that  he  was  dead  it  was  all 
they  would  ask.  But  it  went  on  four  years,  and 
gmn'ther  got  used  to  it  some ;  though  grand 
mother  never  would  give  up.  And  one  morning 
early,  before  day,  she  waked  him  up,  and  says  she, 
'  We  're  going  to  hear  from  Matthew.  Get  up 
quick  and  go  down  to  the  store  ! '  '  Nonsense,' 
says  he.  '  I  've  seen  him,'  says  grandmother, 
'  and  he 's  coming  home.  He  looks  older,  but 
just  the  same  other  ways,  and  he  's  got  long  hair, 
like  a  horse's  mane,  all  down  over  his  shoulders.' 
'  Well,  let  the  dead  rest,'  says  gran'ther ;  '  you  've 
thought  about  the  boy  till  your  head  is  turned.' 
'  1  tell  you  I  saw  Matthew  himself,'  says  she,  '  and 
I  want  you  to  go  right  down  to  see  if  there  isn't 
a  letter.'  And  she  kept  at  him  till  he  saddled  the 
horse,  and  he  got  down  to  the  store  before  it  was 
opened  in  the  morning,  and  he  had  to  wait  round, 
and  when  the  man  came  over  to  iinlock  it  he  was 
'most  ashamed  to  tell  what  his  errand  was,  for  he 
had  been  so  many  times,  and  everybody  supposed 
the  boy  was  dead.  When  he  asked  for  a  letter, 
the  man  said  there  was  none  there,  and  asked  if 
he  was  expecting  any  particular  one.  He  did  n't 


182  DEEP  HA  YEN. 

get  many  letters,  I  s'pose ;  all  his  folks  lived  about 
here,  and  people  did  n't  write  any  to  speak  of  in 
those  days.  Gran'ther  said  he  thought  he  would  n't 
make  such  a  fool  of  himself  again,  but  he  did  n't 
say  anything,  and  he  waited  round  awhile,  talking 
to  one  and  another  who  came  up,  and  by  and  by 
says  the  store-keeper,  who  was  reading  a  news 
paper  that  had  just  come,  '  Here  's  some  news  for 
you,  Sands,  I  do  believe !  There  are  three  vessels 
come  into  Boston  harbor  that  have  been  out  whal 
ing  and  sealing  in  the  South  Seas  for  three  or  four 
years,  and  your  son  Matthew's  name  is  down  on 
the  list  of  the  crew.'  'I  tell  ye,'  says  gran'thcr,  '  I 
took  that  paper,  and  I  got  on  my  horse  and  put 
for  home,  and  your  grandmother  she  hailed  me, 
and  she  said,  "You  've  heard,  have  n't  you?"  before 
I  told  her  a  word.' 

"  Gran'ther  he  got  his  breakfast  and  started 
right  off  for  Boston,  and  got  there  early  the  second 
day,  and  went  right  down  on  the  wharves.  Some 
body  lent  him  a  boat,  and  he  went  out  to  where 
there  were  two  sealers  laying  off  riding  at  anchor, 
and  he  asked  a  sailor  if  Matthew  was  aboard.  '  Ay, 
ay,'  says  the  sailor,  '  he 's  down  below.'  And  he 
sung  out  for  him,  and  when  he  come  up  out  of  the 
hold  his  hair  was  long,  down  over  his  shoulders 


GUNNER-FISHING.  183 

like  a  horse's  mane,  just  as  his  mother  saw  it  in 
the  dream.  Gran'ther  he  did  n't  know  what  to 
say,  —  it  scared  him,  —  and  he  asked  how  it  hap 
pened  ;  and  father  told  how  they  'd  been  off  sealing 
in  the  South  Seas,  and  he  and  another  man  had 
lived  alone  on  an  island  for  months,  and  the  whole 
crew  had  grown  wild  in  their  ways  of  living,  being 
off  so  long,  and  for  one  thing  had  gone  without 
caps  and  let  their  hair  grow.  The  rest  of  the  men 
had  been  ashore  and  got  fixed  up  smart,  but  he 
had  been  busy,  and  had  put  it  off  till  that  morn 
ing  ;  he  was  just  going  ashore  then.  Father  was 
all  struck  up  when  he  heard  about  the  dream,  and 
said  his  mind  had  been  dwellin'  on  his  mother  and 
going  home,  and  he  come  down  to  let  her  see  him 
just  as  he  was  and  she  said  it  was  the  same  way 
he  looked  in  the  dream.  He  never  would  have  his 
hair  cut  —  father  would  n't  —  and  wore  it  in  a 
queue.  I  remember  seeing  him  with  it  when  I 
was  a  boy;  but  his  second  wife  did  n't  like  the  looks 
of  it,  and  she  come  up  behind  him  one  day  and  cut 
it  off  with  the  scissors.  He  was  terrible  worked 
up  about  it.  I  never  see  father  so  mad  as  he  was 
that  day.  Now  this  is  just  as  true  as  the  Bible," 
said  Captain  Sands.  "  I  have  n't  put  a  word  to  it, 
and  grau'ther  al'ays  told  a  story  just  as  it  was. 


184  DEEPHAVEN. 

That  woman  saw  her  son ;  but  if  you  ask  me  what 
kind  of  eyesight  it  was,  I  can't  tell  you,  nor  nobody 
else." 

Later  that  evening  Kate  and  I  drifted  into  a 
long  talk  about  the  captain's  stories  and  these 
mysterious  powers  of  which  we  know  so  little.  It 
was  somewhat  chilly  in  the  house,  and  we  had 
kindled  a  fire  in  the  fireplace,  which  at  first  made 
a  blaze  which  lighted  the  old  room  royally,  and 
then  quieted  down  into  red  coals  and  lazy  puffs  of 
smoke.  We  had  carried  the  lights  away,  and  sat 
with  our  feet  on  the  fender,  and  Kate's  great  dog 
•was  lying  between  ns  on  the  rug.  I  remember 
that  evening  so  well ;  we  could  see  the  stars 
through  the  window  plainer  and  plainer  as  the 
fire  went  down,  and  we  could  hear  the  noise  of  the 
sea. 

"  Do  you  remember  in  the  old  myth  of  Demeter 
and  Persephone,"  Kate  asked  me,  "  where  Deme 
ter  takes  care  of  the  child  and  gives  it  ambrosia 
and  hides  it  in  fire,  because  she  loves  it  and  wishes 
to  make  it  immortal,  and  to  give  it  eternal  youth ; 
and  then  the  mother  finds  it  out  and  cries  in  terror 
to  hinder  her,  and  the  goddess  angrily  throws  the 
child  down  and  rushes  away  1  And  he  had  to  share 
the  common  destiny  of  mankind,  though  he  always 


GUNNER-FISHING.  185 

had  some  •wonderful  inscrutable  grace  and  wisdom, 
because  a  goddess  had  loved  him  and  held  him  in 
her  arms.  I  always  thought  that  part  of  the  story 
beautiful  where  Demeter  throws  off  her  disguise 
and  is  no  longer  an  old  woman,  and  the  great 
house  is  filled  with  brightness  like  lightning,  and 
she  rushes  out  through  the  halls  with  her  yellow 
hair  waving  over  her  shoulders,  and  the  people 
would  give  anything  to  bring  her  back  again,  and 
to  undo  their  mistake.  I  knew  it  almost  all  by 
heart  once,"  said  Kate,  "  and  I  am  always  finding 
a  new  meaning  in  it.  I  was  just  thinking  that  it 
may  be  that  we  all  have  given  to  us  more  or  less 
of  another  nature,  as  the  child  had  whom  Demeter 
wished  to  make  like  the  gods.  I  believe  old  Cap 
tain  Sands  is  right,  and  we  have  these  instincts 
which  defy  all  our  wisdom  and  for  which  we  never 
can  frame  any  laws.  We  may  laugh  at  them,  but 
we  are  always  meeting  them,  and  one  cannot  help 
knowing  that  it  has  been  the  same  through  all 
history.  They  are  powers  which  are  imperfectly 
developed  in  this  life,  but  one  cannot  help  the 
thought  that  the  mystery  of  this  woi'ld  may  be  the 
commonplace  of  the  next." 

"  I  wonder,"  said  I,  "  why  it  is  that  one  hears  so 
much  more  of  such  things  from  simple  country 


186  DEEPHAVEN. 

people.  They  believe  in  dreams,  and  they  have  a 
kind  of  fetichism,  and  believe  so  heartily  in  super 
natural  causes.  I  suppose  nothing  could  shake 
Mrs.  Patton's  faith  in  warnings.  There  is  no  end 
of  absurdity  in  it,  and  yet  there  is  one  side  of 
such  lives  for  which  one  cannot  help  having  rever 
ence  ;  they  live  so  much  nearer  to  nature  than 
people  who  are  in  cities,  and  there  is  a  soberness 
about  country  people  oftentimes  that  one  cannot 
help  noticing.  I  wonder  if  they  are  unconsciously 
awed  by  the  strength  and  purpose  in  the  world 
about  them,  and  the  mysterious  creative  power 
which  is  at  work  with  them  on  their  familiar  farms. 
In  their  simple  life  they  take  their  instincts  for 
truths,  and  perhaps  they  are  not  always  so  far 
wrong  as  we  imagine.  Because  they  are  so  in 
stinctive  and  unreasoning  they  may  have  a  more 
complete  sympathy  with  Nature,  and  may  hear 
her  voices  when  wiser  ears  are  deaf.  They  have 
much  in  common,  after  all,  with  the  plants  which 
grow  up  out  of  the  ground  and  the  wild  creatures 
which  depend  upon  their  instincts  wholly." 

"  I  think,"  said  Kate,  "  that  the  more  one  lives 
out  of  doors  the  more  personality  there  seems  to 
be  in  what  we  call  inanimate  things.  The  strength 
of  the  hills  and  the  voice  of  the  waves  are  no  longer 


GUNNER-FISHING.  187 

only  grand  poetical  sentences,  but  an  expression  of 
something  real,  and  more  and  more  one  finds  God 
himself  in  the  world,  and  believes  that  we  may 
read  the  thoughts  that  He  writes  for  us  in  the 
book  of  Nature."  And  after  this  \ve  were  silent 
for  a  while,  and  in  the  mean  time  it  grew  very  late, 
and  we  watched  the  fire  until  there  were  only  a 
few  sparks  left  in  the  ashes.  The  stars  faded  away 
and  the  moon  came  up  out  of  the  sea,  and  we 
barred  the  great  hall  door  and  went  up  stairs  to 
bed.  The  lighthouse  lamp  burned  steadily,  and  it 
was  the  only  light  that  had  not  been  blown  out  in 
all  Deephaven. 


MRS.    BONNY. 


AM  sure  that  Kate  Lancaster  and  I  must 
have  spent  by  far  the  greater  part  of 
the  summer  out  of  doors.  We  often 
made  long  expeditions  out  into  the  suburbs  of 
Deephaven,  sometimes  being  gone  all  day,  and 
sometimes  taking  a  long  afternoon  stroll  and  com 
ing  home  early  in  the  evening  hungry  as  hunt 
ers  and  laden  with  treasure,  whether  we  had  been 
through  the  pine  woods  inland  or  alongshore,  wheth 
er  we  had  met  old  friends  or  made  some  desirable 
new  acquaintances.  We  had  a  fashion  of  calling 
at  the  farm-houses,  and  by  the  end  of  the  season 
we  knew  as  many  people  as  if  we  had  lived  in 
Deephaven  all  our  days.  We  used  to  ask  for  a 
drink  of  water  ;  this  was  our  unfailing  introduction, 
and  afterward  there  were  many  interesting  subjects 
which  one  could  introduce,  and  we  could  always 
give  the  latest  news  at  the  shore.  It  was  amus 
ing  to  see  the  curiosity  which  we  aroused.  Many 


MRS.   BONNY.  189 

of  the  people  came  into  Deephaven  only  on  special 
occasions,  and  I  must  confess  that  at  first  we  were 
often  naughty  enough  to  wait  until  we  had  been 
severely  cross-questioned  before  we  gave  a  definite 
account  of  ourselves.  Kate  was  very  clever  at 
making  unsatisfactory  answers  when  she  cared  to 
do  so.  We  did  not  understand,  for  some  time, 
with  what  a  keen  sense  of  enjoyment  many  of 
those  people  made  the  acquaintance  of  an  entirely 
new  person  who  cordially  gave  the  full  particulars 
about  herself;  but  we  soon  learned  to  call  this  by 
another  name  than  impertinence. 

I  think  there  were  no  points  of  interest  in  that 
region  which  we  did  not  visit  with  conscientious 
faithfulness.  There  were  cliffs  and  pebble-beaches, 
the  long  sands  and  the  short  sands  ;  there  were 
Black  Rock  and  Roaring  Rock,  High  Point  and 
East  Point,  and  Spouting  Rock  ;  we  went  to  see 
where  a  ship  had  been  driven  ashore  in  the  night, 
all  hands  being  lost  and  not  a  piece  of  her  left 
larger  than  an  axe-handle  ;  we  visited  the  spot 
where  a  ship  had  come  ashore  in  the  fog,  and 
had  been  left  high  and  dry  on  the  edge  of  the 
marsh  when  the  tide  went  out  ;  we  saw  where 
the  brig  Methuselah  had  been  wrecked,  and  the 
shore  had  been  golden  with  her  cargo  of  lemons 


190  DEEP  HAVEN. 

and  oranges,  which  one  might  carry  away  by  the 
wherry  ful. 

Inland  there  were  not  many  noted  localities, 
but  we  used  to  enjoy  the  woods,  and  our  explora 
tions  among  the  farms,  immensely.  To  the  west 
ward  the  land  was  better  and  the  people  well-to- 
do  ;  but  we  went  oftenest  toward  the  hills  and 
among  the  poorer  people.  The  land  was  uneven 
and  full  of  ledges,  and  the  people  worked  hard  for 
their  living,  at  most  laying  aside  only  a  few  dol 
lars  each  year.  Some  of  the  more  enterprising 
young  people  went  away  to  work  in  shops  and  fac 
tories  ;  but  the  custom  was  by  no  means  universal, 
and  the  people  had  a  hungry,  discouraged  look. 
It  is  all  very  well  to  say  that  they  knew  nothing 
better,  that  it  was  the  only  life  of  which  they 
knew  anything ;  there  was  too  often  a  look  of  dis 
appointment  in  their  faces,  and  sooner  or  later  we 
heard  or  guessed  many  stories  :  that  this  young 
man  had  wished  for  an  education,  but  there  had 
been  no  money  to  spare  for  books  or  schooling ; 
and  that  one  had  meant  to  learn  a  trade,  but 
there  must  be  some  one  to  help  his  father  with 
the  farm-work,  and  there  was  no  money  to  hire  a 
man  to  work  in  his  place  if  he  went  away.  The 
older  people  had  a  hard  look,  as  if  they  had  always 


MRS.   BONNY.  191 

to  be  on  the  alert  and  must  fight  for  their  place 
in  the  world.  One  could  only  forgive  and  pity 
their  petty  sharpness,  which  showed  itself  in  tri 
fling  bargains,  when  one  understood  how  much  a 
single  dollar  seemed  where  dollars  came  so  rarely. 
We  used  to  pity  the  young  girls  so  much.  It  was 
plain  that  those  who  knew  how  much  easier  and 
pleasanter  our  lives  were  could  not  help  envy 
ing  ns. 

There  was  a  high  hill  half  a  dozen  miles  from 
Deephaven  which  was  known  in  its  region  as  "  the 
mountain."  It  was  the  highest  land  anywhere 
near  us,  and  having  been  told  that  there  was  a 
fine  view  from  the  top,  one  day  we  went  there, 
with  Tommy  Dockum  for  escort.  We  overtook 
Mr.  Lorimer,  the  minister,  on  his  way  to  make 
parochial  calls  upon  some  members  of  his  par 
ish  who  lived  far  from  church,  and  to  our  delight 
he  proposed  to  go  with  us  instead.  It  was  a  great 
satisfaction  to  have  him  for  a  guide,  for  he  knew 
both  the  country  and  the  people  more  intimately 
than  any  one  else.  It  was  a  long  climb  to  the  top 
of  the  hill,  but  not  a  hard  one.  The  sky  was  clear, 
and  there  was  a  fresh  wind,  though  we  had  left  none 
at  all  at  the  sea-level.  After  lunch,  Kate  and  I 
spread  our  shawls  over  a  fine  cushion  of  mountain- 


192  DEEPHAVEN. 

cranberry,  and  had  a  long  talk  with  Mr.  Lorimer 
about  ancient  and  modern  Deephaven.  He  always 
seemed  as  much  pleased  with  our  enthusiasm  for 
the  town  as  if  it  had  been  a  personal  favor  and 
compliment  to  himself.  I  remember  how  far  we 
could  see,  that  day,  and  how  we  looked  toward 
the  far-away  blue  mountains,  and  then  out  over 
the  ocean.  Deephaven  looked  insignificant  from 
that  height  and  distance,  and  indeed  the  country 
seemed  to  be  mostly  covered  with  the  pointed  tops 
of  pines  and  spruces,  and  there  were  long  tracts 
of  maple  and  beech  woods  with  their  coloring  of 
lighter,  fresher  green. 

"  Suppose  we  go  down,  now,"  said  Mr.  Lorimer, 
long  before  Kate  and  I  had  meant  to  propose  such 
a  thing  ;  and  our  feeling  was  that  of  dismay.  "  I 
should  like  to  take  you  to  make  a  call  with  me. 
Did  you  ever  hear  of  old  Mrs.  Bonny  ?  " 

"No,"  said  we,  and  cheerfully  gathered  our 
wraps  and  baskets;  and  when  Tommy  finally 
came  panting  \ip  the  hill  after  we  had  begun  to 
think  that  our  shoutings  and  whistling  were  use 
less,  we  sent  him  down  to  the  horses,  and  went 
down  ourselves  by  another  path.  It  led  us  a  long 
distance  through  a  grove  of  young  beeches;  the 
last  year's  whitish  leaves  lay  thick  on  the  ground, 


MRS.  BONNY.  193 

and  the  new  leaves  made  so  close  a  roof  overhead 
that  the  light  was  strangely  purple,  as  if  it  had 
come  through  a  great  church  window  of  stained 
glass.  After  this  we  went  through  some  hemlock 
growth,  where,  on  the  lower  branches,  the  pale 
green  of  the  new  shoots  and  the  dark  green  of  the 
old  made  an  exquisite  contrast  each  to  the  other. 
Finally  we  came  out  at  Mrs.  Bouny's.  Mr.  Lori- 
mer  had  told  us  something  about  her  on  the  way 
down,  saying  in  the  first  place  that  she  was  one 
of  the  queerest  characters  he  knew.  Her  hus 
band  used  to  be  a  charcoal-burner  and  basket- 
maker,  and  she  used  to  sell  butter  and  berries  and 
eggs,  and  choke-pears  preserved  in  molasses.  She 
always  came  down  to  Deephaven  on  a  little  black 
horse,  with  her  goods  in  baskets  and  bags  which 
were  fastened  to  the  saddle  in  a  mysterious  way. 
She  had  the  reputation  of  not  being  a  neat  house 
keeper,  and  none  of  the  wise  women  of  the  town 
would  touch  her  butter  especially,  so  it  was  always 
a  joke  when  she  coaxed  a  new  resident  or  a 
strange  shipmaster  into  buying  her  wares ;  but 
the  old  woman  always  managed  to  jog  home  with 
out  the  freight  she  had  brought.  "  She  must  be 
very  old,  now,"  said  Mr.  Lorimer ;  "  I  have  not 
seen  her  in  a  long  time.  It  cannot  be  possible 

9  M 


194  DEEPHAVEN. 

that  her  horse  is  still  alive  !  "  And  we  all  laughed 
when  we  saw  Mrs.  Bonny's  steed  at  a  little  dis 
tance,  for  the  shaggy  old  creature  was  covered  with 
mud,  pine-needles,  and  dead  leaves,  with  half  the 
last  year's  burdock-burs  in  all  Deephaven  snarled 
into  his  mane  and  tail  and  sprinkled  over  his  fur, 
which  looked  nearly  as  long  as  a  buffalo's.  He 
had  hurt  his  leg,  and  his  kind  mistress  had  tied 
it  up  with  a  piece  of  faded  red  calico  and  an  end 
of  ragged  rope.  He  gave  us  a  civil  neigh,  and 
looked  at  us  curiously.  Then  an  impertinent  little 
yellow-and-white  dog,  with  one  ear  standing  up 
straight  and  the  other  drooping  over,  began  to 
bark  with  all  his  might ;  but  he  retreated  when 
he  saw  Kate's  great  dog,  who  was  walking  sol 
emnly  by  her  side  and  did  not  deign  to  notice 
him.  Just  now  Mrs.  Bonny  appeared  at  the  door 
of  the  house,  shading  her  eyes  with  her  hand, 
to  see  who  was  coming.  "  Landy  !  "  said  she,  "  if 
it  ain't  old  Parson  Lorimer !  And  who  be  these 
with  ye  ] " 

41  This  is  Miss  Kate  Lancaster  of  Boston,  Miss 
Katharine  Brandon's  niece,  and  her  friend  Miss 
Denis." 

"Pleased  to  see  ye,"  said  the  old  woman;  "walk 
in  and  lay  off  your  things."  And  we  followed  her 


MRS.   BONNY.  195 

into  the  house.  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  her  : 
she  wore  a  man's  coat,  cut  off  so  that  it  made  an 
odd  short  jacket,  and  a  pair  of  men's  boots  much 
the  worse  for  wear ;  also,  some  short  skirts,  beside 
two  or  three  aprons,  the  inner  one  being  a  dress- 
apron,  as  she  took  off  the  outer  ones  and  threw 
them  into  a  corner ;  and  on  her  head  was  a  tight 
cap,  with  strings  to  tie  under  her  chin.  I  thought 
it  was  a  nightcap,  and  that  she  had  forgotten  to 
take  it  off,  and  dreaded  her  mortification  if  she 
should  suddenly  become  conscious  of  it ;  but  I 
need  not  have  troubled  myself,  for  while  we  were 
with  her  she  pulled  it  on  and  tied  it  tighter,  as  if 
she  considered  it  ornamental. 

There  were  only  two  rooms  in  the  house ;  we 
went  into  the  kitchen,  which  was  occupied  by  a 
flock  of  hens  and  one  turkey.  The  latter  was  evi 
dently  undergoing  a  course  of  medical  treatment 
behind  the  stove,  and  was  allowed  to  stay  with  us, 
while  the  hens  were  remorselessly  hustled  out  with 
a  hemlock  broom.  They  all  congregated  on  the 
doorstep,  apparently  wishing  to  hear  everything 
that  was  said. 

"Ben  up  011  the  mountain1?"  asked  our  hostess. 
"  Real  sightly  place.  Goin'  to  be  a  master  lot  o' 
rosbries ;  get  any  down  to  the  shore  sence  I  quit 
comin'  ] " 


196  DEEPHAVEN. 

"  0  yes,"  said  Mr.  Lorimcr,  "  but  we  miss  sec- 
ing  you." 

"  I  s'pose  so,"  said  Mrs.  Bonny,  smoothing  her 
apron  complacently  ;  "  but  I  'm  getting  old,  and  I 
tell  'em  I  'in  goin'  to  take  my  comfort ;  sence  '  he' 
died,  I  don't  put  myself  out  no  great ;  I  've  got 
money  enough  to  keep  me  long's  I  live.  Beckett's 
folks  goes  down  often,  and  I  sends  by  them  for 
what  store  stuff  I  want." 

"  How  are  you  now  1  "  asked  the  minister  ;  "  I 
think  I  heard  you  were  ill  in  the  spring." 

"Stirrin',  I'm  obliged  to  ye.  I  wasn't  laid  up 
long,  and  I  was  so  's  T  could  get  about  most  of  the 
time.  I  've  got  the  best  bitters  ye  ever  see,  good 
for  the  spring  of  the  year.  S'pose  yer  sister,  Miss 
Lorimer,  would  n't  like  some!  she  used  to  be 
weakly  lookin'."  But  her  brother  refused  the 
offer,  saying  that  she  had  not  been  so  well  for 
many  years. 

"Do  you  often  get  out  to  church  nowadays, 
Mrs.  Bonny?  I  believe  Mr.  Reid  preaches  in  the 
school-house  sometimes,  down  by  the  great  ledge  ; 
does  n't  lie  ]  " 

"  Well,  yes,  he  does ;  but  I  don't  know  as  I  get 
much  of  any  good.  Parson  Reid,  he  's  a  worthy 
creatur',  but  he  never  seems  to  have  nothiu'  to  say 


MRS.   BONNY.  197 

about  foreordination  and  them  p'ints.  Old  Par 
son  Padelford  was  the  man  !  I  used  to  set  under 
his  prcachin'  a  good  deal ;  I  had  an  aunt  living 
down  to  East  Parish.  He  'd  get  worked  up,  and 
he  'd  shut  up  the  Bible  and  preach  the  hair  off 
your  head,  'long  at  the  end  of  the  sermon.  Could 
n't  understand  more  nor  a  quarter  part  what  he 
said,"  said  Mrs.  Bonny,  admiringly.  "  Well,  we 
were  a-speaking  about  the  meeting  over  to  the 
ledge ;  I  don't  know  's  I  like  them  people  any  to 
speak  of.  They  had  a  great  revival  over  there  in 
the  fall,  and  one  Sunday  I  thought 's  how  I  'd  go ; 
and  when  I  got  there,  who  should  be  a-prayin'  but 
old  Ben  Patey,  —  he  always  lays  out  to  get  con 
verted, —  and  he  kep'  it  up  diligent  till  I  couldn't 
stand  it  no  longer ;  and  by  and  by  says  he,  '  I  've 
been  a  wanderer '  ;  and  I  up  and  says,  '  Yes,  you 
have,  I  '11  back  ye  up  on  that,  Ben ;  ye  've  wan 
dered  around  my  wood-lot  and  spoilt  half  the  likely 
young  oaks  and  ashes  I  've  got,  a-stealing  your 
basket-stuff.'  And  the  folks  laughed  out  loud,  and 
up  he  got  and  cleared.  He  's  an  awful  old  thief, 
and  he  's  no  idea  of  being  anything  else.  I  wa'  n't 
a-goin'  to  set  there  and  hear  him  makin'  b'lieve 
to  the  Lord.  If  anybody's  heart  is  in  it,  I  ain't 
a-goin'  to  hender  'em ;  I  :m  a  professor,  and  I  ain't 


198  DEEPHAVEN. 

ashamed  of  it,  week-days  cor  Sundays  neither.  I 
can't  bear  to  see  folks  so  pious  to  meeting,  and 
cheat  yer  eye-teeth  out  Monday  morning.  Well, 
there  !  we  ain't  none  of  us  perfect ;  even  old  Par 
son  Moody  was  round-shouldered,  they  say." 

"  You  were  speaking  of  the  Becketts  just  now," 
said  Mr.  Loriiner  (after  we  had  stopped  laughing, 
and  Mrs.  Bonny  had  settled  her  big  steel-bowed 
spectacles,  and  sat  looking  at  him  with  an  expres 
sion  of  extreme  wisdom.  One  might  have  ventured 
to  call  her  "peart,"  I  think).  "How  do  they  get 
on1?  I  am  seldom  in  this  region  nowadays,  since 
Mr.  Reid  has  taken  it  under  his  charge." 

"  They  get  along,  somehow  or  'nother,"  replied 
Mrs.  Bonny  ;  "  they  've  got  the  best  fami  this  side 
of  the  ledge,  but  they  're  dreadful  lazy  and  shift 
less,  them  young  folks.  Old  Mis'  Hate-evil  Beck 
ett  was  tellin'  me  the  other  day  —  she  that  was 
Samanthy  Barnes,  you  know  —  that  one  of  the 
boys  got  fighting,  the  other  side  of  the  mountain, 
and  come  home  with  his  nose  broke  and  a  piece  o' 
one  ear  bit  off.  I  forget  which  car  it  was.  Their 
mother  is  a  real  clever,  williu'  woman,  and  she 
takes  it  to  heart,  but  it 's  no  use  for  her  to  say 
anything.  Mis'  Hate-evil  Beckett,  says  she,  '  It 
does  make  my  man  feel  dreadful  to  see  his 


MRS.   BONNY.  199 

brother's  folks  carry  on  so.'  '  But  there,'  says  I, 
'  Mis'  Beckett,  it 's  just  such  things  as  we  read  of; 
Scriptur'  is  fulfilled  :  In  the  larter  days  there  shall 
be  disobedient  children.'  " 

This  application  of  the  text  was  too  much  for 
us,  but  Mrs.  Bonny  looked  serious,  and  we  did  not 
like  to  laugh.  Two  or  three  of  the  exiled  fowls 
had  crept  slyly  in,  dodging  underneath  our  chairs, 
and  had  perched  themselves  behind  the  stove. 
They  were  long-legged,  half-grown  creatures,  and 
just  at  this  minute  one  rash  young  rooster  made 
a  manful  attempt  to  crow.  "  Do  tell ! "  said  his 
mistress,  who  rose  in  great  wrath,  "  you  need  n't 
be  so  forth-putting,  as  I  knows  on  ! "  After  this 
we  were  urged  to  stay  and  have  some  supper. 
Mrs.  Bonny  assured  us  she  could  pick  a  likely 
young  hen  in  no  time,  fry  her  with  a  bit  of  pork, 
and  get  us  up  "  a  good  meat  tea  "  ;  but  we  had  to 
disappoint  her,  as  we  had  some  distance  to  walk 
to  the  house  where  we  had  left  our  horses,  and  a 
long  drive  home. 

Kate  asked  if  she  would  be  kind  enough  to  lend 
us  a  tumbler  (for  ours  was  in  the  basket,  which 
was  given  into  Tommy's  charge).  We  were  thirsty, 
and  would  like  to  go  back  to  the  spring  and  get 
some  water. 


200  DEEPHA  YEN. 

"Yes,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Bonny,  "I  've  got  a  glasa, 
if  it  's  so 's  I  can  find  it."  And  she  pulled  a 
chair  under  the  little  cupboard  over  the  fireplace, 
mounted  it,  and  opened  the  door.  Several  things 
fell  out  at  her,  and  after  taking  a  careful  survey 
she  went  in,  head  and  shoulders,  until  I  thought 
that  she  would  disappear  altogether ;  but  soon 
she  came  back,  and  reaching  in  took  out  one 
treasure  after  another,  putting  them  on  the  man 
tel-piece  or  dropping  them  on  the  floor.  There 
were  some  bunches  of  dried  herbs,  a  tin  horn,  a 
lump  of  tallow  in  a  broken  plate,  a  newspaper, 
and  an  old  boot,  with  a  number  of  turkey-wings 
tied  together,  several  bottles,  and  a  steel  trap,  and 
finally,  such  a  tumbler  !  which  she  produced  with 
triumph,  before  stepping  down.  She  poured  out 
of  it  on  the  table  a  mixture  of  old  buttons  and 
squash-seeds,  beside  a  lump  of  beeswax  which  she 
said  she  had  lost,  and  now  pocketed  with  satisfac 
tion.  She  wiped  the  tumbler  on  her  apron  and 
handed  it  to  Kate,  but  we  were  not  so  thirsty  as 
we  had  been,  though  we  thanked  her  and  went 
down  to  the  spring,  coming  back  as  soon  as  pos 
sible,  for  we  could  not  lose  a  bit  of  the  conversa 
tion. 

There  was  a  beautiful  view  from  the  doorstep, 


MRS.   BONNY.  201 

and  we  stopped  a  minute  there.  "  Real  sightly, 
ain't  it1?"  said  Mrs.  Bonny.  "But  you  ought  to 
be  here  and  look  across  the  woods  some  morning 
just  at  sun-up.  Why,  the  sky  is  all  yaller  and 
red,  and  them  low  lands  topped  with  fog !  Yes, 
it 's  nice  weather,  good  growin'  weather,  this  week. 
Corn  and  all  the  rest  of  the  trade  looks  first-rate. 
I  call  it  a  forrard  season.  It 's  just  such  weather 
as  we  read  of,  ain't  it  1 " 

"  I  don't  remember  where,  just  at  this  moment," 
said  Mr.  Lorimer. 

"  Why,  in  the  almanac,  bless  ye  ! "  said  she, 
with  a  tone  of  pity  in  her  grum  voice  ;  could  it 
be  possible  he  did  n't  know,  — -  the  Deephaven 
minister! 

We  asked  her  to  come  and  see  us.  She  said  she 
had  always  thought  she  'd  get  a  chance  some  time 
to  see  Miss  Katharine  Brandon's  house.  She 
should  be  pleased  to  call,  and  she  did  n't  know 
but  she  should  be  down  to  the  shore  before  very 
long.  She  was  'shamed  to  look  so  shif'less  that 
day,  but  she  had  some  good  clothes  in  a  chist  in 
the  bedroom,  and  a  boughten  bonnet  with  a  good 
cypress  veil,  which  she  had  when  "  he  "  died.  She 
calculated  they  would  do,  though  they  might  be 
old-fashioned,  some.  She  seemed  greatly  pleased 


202  DEEPHA  YEN. 

at  Mr.  Lorimer's  having  taken  the  trouble  to  come 
to  see  her.  All  those  people  had  a  great  rever 
ence  for  "  the  minister."  We  were  urged  to  come 
again  in  "  rosbry  "  time,  which  was  near  at  hand, 
and  she  gave  us  messages  for  some  of  her  old  cus 
tomers  and  acquaintances.  "  I  believe  some  of 
those  old  creatur's  will  never  die,"  said  she  ;  "why, 
they  're  getting  to  be  ter'ble  old,  ain't  they,  Mr. 
Lorimer  1  There  !  ye  "ve  done  me  a  sight  of  good, 
and  I  wish  I  could  ha'  found  the  Bible,  to  hear  ye 
read  a  Psalm."  When  Mr.  Lorimer  shook  hands 
with  her,  at  leaving,  she  made  him  a  most  rever 
ential  courtesy.  He  was  the  greatest  man  she 
knew  ;  and  once  during  the  call,  when  he  was 
speaking  of  serious  things  in  his  simple,  earnest 
way,  she  had  so  devout  a  look,  and  seemed  so  in 
terested,  that  Kate  and  I,  and  Mr.  Lorimer  him 
self,  caught  a  new,  fresh  meaning  in  the  familiar 
words  he  spoke. 

Living  there  in  the  lonely  clearing,  deep  in  the 
woods  and  far  from  any  neighbor,  she  knew  all 
the  herbs  and  trees  and  the  harmless  wild  creatures 
who  lived  among  them,  by  heart ;  and  she  had  an 
amazing  store  of  tradition  and  superstition,  which 
made  her  so  entertaining  to  us  that  we  went  to 
see  her  many  times  before  we  came  away  in  the 


MRS.   BONNY.  203 

autumn.  We  went  with  her  to  find  some  pitcher- 
plants,  one  day,  and  it  was  wonderful  how  much 
she  knew  about  the  woods,  what  keen  observation 
she  had.  There  was  something  so  wild  and  un 
conventional  about  Mrs.  Bonny  that  it  was  like 
taking  an  afternoon  walk  with  a  good-natured 
Indian.  We  used  to  carry  her  offerings  of  tobacco, 
for  she  was  a  great  smoker,  and  advised  us  to  try 
it,  if  ever  we  should  be  troubled  with  nerves,  or 
"narves,"  as  she  pronounced  the  name  of  that 
affliction. 


IN   SHADOW. 


OON  after  we  went  to  Deephaven  we  took 
a  long  drive  one  day  Avith  Mr.  Dockum, 
the  kindest  and  silentest  of  men.  He 
had  the  care  of  the  Brandon  property,  and  had 
some  business  at  that  time  connected  with  a  large 
tract  of  pasture-land  perhaps  ten  miles  from  town. 
We  had  heard  of  the  coast-road  which  led  to  it, 
how  rocky  and  how  rough  and  wild  it  was,  and 
when  Kate  heard  by  chance  that  Mr.  Dockum 
meant  to  go  that  way,  she  asked  if  we  might  go 
with  him.  He  said  he  would  much  rather  take  us 
than  "go  sole  alone,"  but  he  should  be  away  until 
late  and  we  must  take  our  dinner,  which  we  did 
not  mind  doing  at  all. 

After  we  were  three  or  four  miles  from  Deep- 
haven  the  country  looked  very  different.  The 
shore  was  so  rocky  that  there  were  almost  no 
places  where  a  boat  could  put  in,  so  there  were 
no  fishermen  in  the  region,  and  the  farms  were 


IN  SHADOW.  205 

scattered  wide  apart ;  the  land  was  so  poor  that 
even  the  trees  looked  hungry.  At  the  end  of  our 
drive  we  left  the  horse  at  a  lonely  little  farm-house 
close  by  the  sea.  Mr.  Dockum  was  to  walk  a  long 
way  inland  through  the  woods  with  a  man  whom 
he  had  come  to  meet,  and  he  told  us  if  we  followed 
the  shore  westward  a  mile  or  two  we  should  find 
some  very  high  rocks,  for  which  he  knew  we  had  a 
great  liking.  It  was  a  delightful  day  to  spend  out 
of  doors  ;  there  was  an  occasional  whiff  of  east- 
wind.  Seeing  us  seemed  to  be  a  perfect  godsend 
to  the  people  whose  nearest  neighbors  lived  far  out 
of  sight.  We  had  a  long  talk  with  them  before  we 
went  for  our  walk.  The  house  was  close  by  the 
water  by  a  narrow  cove,  around  which  the  rocks 
were  low,  but  farther  down  the  shore  the  land  rose 
more  and  more,  and  at  last  we  stood  at  the  edge 
of  the  highest  rocks  of  all  and  looked  far  down 
at  the  sea,  dashing  its  white  spray  high  over  the 
ledges  that  quiet  day.  What  could  it  be  in  winter 
when  there  was  a  storm  and  the  great  waves  came 
thundering  in  1 

After  we  had  explored  the  shore  to  our  hearts' 
content  and  were  tired,  we  rested  for  a  while  in  the 
shadow  of  some  gnarled  pitch-pines  which  stood 
close  together,  as  near  the  sea  as  they  dai'ed. 


206  DEEPHA  YEN. 

They  looked  like  a  band  of  outlaws  ;  they  were 
such  wild-looking  trees.  They  seemed  very  old, 
and  as  if  their  savage  fights  with  the  winter  winds 
had  made  them  hard-hearted.  And  yet  the  little 
wild-flowers  and  the  thin  green  grass-blades  were 
growing  fearlessly  close  around  their  feet ;  and 
there  were  some  comfortable  birds'-nests  in  safe 
corners  of  their  rough  branches. 

When  we  went  back  to  the  house  at  the  cove 
we  had  to  wait  some  time  for  Mr.  Dockum.  We 
succeeded  in  making  friends  with  the  children,  and 
gave  them  some  candy  and  the  rest  of  our  lunch, 
which  luckily  had  been  even  more  abundant  than 
usual.  They  looked  thin  and  pitiful,  but  even  in 
that  lonely  place,  where  they  so  seldom  saw  a 
stranger  or  even  a  neighbor,  they  showed  that 
there  was  an  evident  effort  to  make  them  look 
like  other  children,  and  they  were  neatly  dressed, 
though  there  could  be  no  mistake  about  their  being 
very  poor.  One  forlorn  little  soul,  with  honest 
gray  eyes  and  a  sweet,  shy  smile,  showed  us  a 
string  of  beads  which  she  wore  round  her  neck ; 
there  were  perhaps  two  dozen  of  them,  blue  and 
white,  on  a  bit  of  twine,  and  they  were  the  dearest 
things  in  all  her  world.  When  we  came  away  we 
were  so  glad  that  we  could  give  the  man  more 


IN  SHADOW.  207 

than  he  asked  us  for  taking  care  of  the  horse,  and 
his  thanks  touched  us. 

"  I  hope  ye  may  never  know  what  it  is  to  earn 
every  dollar  as  hard  as  I  have.  I  never  earned 
any  money  as  easy  as  this  before.  I  don't  feel  as 
if  I  ought  to  take  it.  I  've  done  the  best  I  could," 
said  the  man,  with  the  tears  coming  into  his  eyes, 
and  a  huskiness  in  his  voice.  "  I  've  done  the  best 
I  could,  and  I  'm  willin'  arid  my  woman  is,  but 
everything  seems  to  have  been  ag'in'  us ;  we  never 
seem  to  get  forehanded.  It  looks  sometimes  as  if 
the  Lord  had  forgot  us,  but  my  woman  she  never 
wants  me  to  say  that ;  she  says  He  ain't,  and  that 
we  might  be  worse  off,  —  but  I  don'  know.  I 
have  n't  had  my  health  ;  that 's  hendered  me  most. 
I  'm  a  boat-builder  by  trade,  but  the  business  's  all 
run  down  ;  folks  buys  'em  second-hand  nowadays, 
and  you  can't  make  nothing.  I  can't  stand  it  to 
foller  deep-sea  fishing,  and  —  well,  you  see  what 
my  land  's  wuth.  But  my  oldest  boy,  he  's  getting 
ahead.  He  pushed  off  this  spring,  and  he  works 
in  a  box-shop  to  Boston ;  a  cousin  o'  his  mother's 
got  him  the  chance.  He  sent  me  ten  dollars  a 
spell  ago  and  his  mother  a  shawl.  I  don't  see 
how  he  done  it,  but  he  's  smart  !  " 

This  seemed  to  be  the  only  bright  spot  in  their 


208  DEEPHA  YEN. 

lives,  and  we  admired  the  shawl  and  sat  down  in 
the  house  awhile  with  the  mother,  who  seemed 
kind  and  patient  and  tired,  and  to  have  great 
delight  in  talking  about  what  one  should  wear. 
Kate  and  I  thought  and  spoke  often  of  these  peo 
ple  afterward,  and  when  one  day  we  met  the  man 
in  Deephaven  we  sent  some  things  to  the  children 
and  his  wife,  and  begged  him  to  come  to  the  house 
whenever  he  came  to  town  ;  but  we  never  saw  him 
again,  and  though  we  made  many  plans  for  going 
again  to  the  cove,  we  never  did.  At  one  time  the 
road  was  reported  impassable,  and  we  put  off  our 
second  excursion  for  this  reason  and  others  until 
just  before  we  left  Deephaven,  late  in  October. 

We  knew  the  coast-road  would  be  bad  after  the 
fall  rains,  and  we  found  that  Leander,  the  eldest 
of  the  Dockum  boys,  had  some  errand  that  way, 
so  he  went  with  us.  We  enjoyed  the  drive  that 
morning  in  spite  of  the  rough  road.  The  air  was 
wrarm,  and  sweet  with  the  smell  of  bayberry-bushcs 
and  pitch-pines  and  the  delicious  saltness  of  the 
sea,  which  was  not  far  from  us  all  the  way.  It 
was  a  perfect  autumn  day.  Sometimes  we  crossed 
pebble  beaches,  and  then  went  farther  inland, 
through  woods  and  up  and  down  steep  little  hills  ; 
over  shaky  bridges  which  crossed  narrow  salt  creeks 


IN  SHADOW.  209 

in  the  marsh-lands.  There  was  a  little  excitement 
about  the  drive,  and  an  exhilaration  in  the  air, 
and  we  laughed  at  jokes  forgotten  the  next  minute, 
and  sang,  and  were  jolly  enough.  Leandei',  who 
had  never  happened  to  see  us  in  exactly  this 
hilarious  state  of  mind  before,  seemed  surprised 
and  interested,  and  became  unusually  talkative, 
telling  us  a  great  many  edifying  particulars  about 
the  people  whose  houses  we  passed,  and  who  owned 
every  wood-lot  along  the  road.  "  Do  you  see  that 
house  over  on  the  pi'nt  ] "  he  asked.  "  An  old 
fellow  lives  there  that 's  part  lost  his  mind.  He 
had  a  son  who  was  drowned  off  Cod  Rock  fishing, 
much  as  twenty-five  years  ago,  and  he  's  worn  a 
deep  path  out  to  the  end  of  the  pi'nt  where  he 
goes  out  every  hand's  turn  o'  the  day  to  see  if 
he  can't  see  the  boat  coming  in."  And  Leander 
looked  round  to  see  if  we  were  not  amused,  and 
seemed  puzzled  because  we  did  n't  laugh.  Happily, 
his  next  story  was  funny. 

We  saw  a  sleepy  little  owl  on  the  dead  branch 
of  a  pine-tree ;  we  saw  a  rabbit  cross  the  road  and 
disappear  in  a  clump  of  juniper,  and  squirrels  run 
up  and  down  trees  and  along  the  stone-walls  with 
acorns  in  their  mouths.  We  passed  straggling 
thickets  of  the  upland  sumach,  leafless,  and  hold- 


210  DEEPHAVEN. 

ing  high  their  ungainly  spikes  of  red  berries  ;  there 
were  sturdy  barberry-bushes  along  the  lonely  way 
side,  their  unpicked  fruit  hanging  in  brilliant  clus 
ters.  The  blueberry -bushes  made  patches  of  dull 
red  along  the  hillsides.  The  ferns  were  whitish- 
gray  and  brown  at  the  edges  of  the  woods,  and  the 
asters  and  golden-rods  which  had  lately  looked  so 
gay  in  the  open  fields  stood  now  in  faded,  frost 
bitten  companies.  There  were  busy  flocks  of  birds 
flitting  from  field  to  field,  ready  to  start  on  their 
journey  southward. 

When  we  reached  the  house,  to  our  surprise 
there  was  no  one  in  sight  and  the  place  looked 
deserted.  We  left  the  wagon,  and  while  Leander 
went  toward  the  barn,  which  stood  at  a  little  dis 
tance,  Kate  and  I  went  to  the  house  and  knocked. 
I  opened  the  door  a  little  way  and  said  "  Hallo  ! " 
but  nobody  answered.  The  people  could  not  have 
moved  away,  for  there  were  some  chairs  standing 
outside  the  door,  and  as  I  looked  in  I  saw  the 
bunches  of  herbs  hanging  up,  and  a  trace  of  corn, 
and  the  furniture  was  all  there.  It  was  a  great 
disappointment,  for  we  had  counted  upon  seeing 
the  children  again.  Leander  said  there  was  no 
body  at  the  barn,  and  that  they  must  have  gone 
to  a  funeral ;  he  could  n't  think  of  anything  else. 


IN  SHADOW.  211 

Just  now  we  saw  some  people  coming  up  the 
road,  and  we  thought  at  first  that  they  were  the 
man  and  his  wife  coming  back  ;  but  they  proved  to 
be  strangers,  and  we  eagerly  asked  what  had  be 
come  of  the  family. 

"They  're  dead,  both  on  'em.  His  wife  she  died 
about  nine  weeks  ago  last  Sunday,  and  he  died  day 
before  yesterday.  Funeral 's  going  to  be  this  after 
noon.  Thought  ye  were  some  of  her  folks  from 
up  country,  when  we  were  coming  along,"  said  the 
man. 

"  Guess  they  won't  come  nigh,"  said  the  woman, 
scornfully  ;  "  'fraid  they  'd  have  to  help  provide  for 
the  children.  I  was  half-sister  to  him,  and  I  've 
got  to  take  the  two  least  ones." 

"  Did  you  say  he  was  going  to  be  buried  this 
afternoon  ] "  asked  Kate,  slowly.  We  were  both 
more  startled  than  I  can  tell. 

"Yes,"  said  the  man,  who  seemed  much  better- 
natured  than  his  wife.  She  appeared  like  a  per 
son  whose  only  aim  in  life  was  to  have  things 
over  with.  "Yes,  we're  going  to  bury  at  two 
o'clock.  They  had  a  master  sight  of  trouble,  first 
and  last." 

Leanderhad  said  nothing  all  this  time.  He  had 
known  the  man,  and  had  expected  to  spend  the 


212  DEEP  HAVEN. 

day  with  him  and  to  get  him  to  go  on  two  miles 
farther  to  help  bargain  for  a  dory.  He  asked,  in  a 
disappointed  way,  what  had  carried  him  off  so 
sudden. 

"  Drink,"  said  the  woman,  relentlessly.  "  He 
ain't  been  good  for  nothing  sence  his  wife  died  : 
she  was  took  with  a  fever  along  in  the  first  of 
August.  7  'd  ha'  got  up  from  it !  " 

"  Now  don't  be  hard  on  the  dead,  Marthy," 
said  her  husband.  "  I  guess  they  done  the  best 
they  could.  They  were  n't  shif'less,  you  know  ; 
they  never  had  no  health;  't  was  against  wind 
and  tide  with  'em  all  the  time."  And  Kate  asked, 
"  Did  you  say  he  was  your  brother  1 " 

"  Yes.  I  was  half-sister  to  him,"  said  the  wo 
man,  promptly,  with  perfect  unconsciousness  of 
Kate's  meaning. 

"And  what  will  become  of  those  poor  children1?" 

"  I  've  got  the  two  youngest  over  to  my  place 
to  take  care  on,  and  the  two  next  them  has  been 
put  out  to  some  folks  over  to  the  cove.  I  dare 
say  like  's  not  they  '11  be  sent  back." 

"They  're  clever  child'n,  I  guess,"  said  the  man, 
•who  spoke  as  if  this  were  the  first  time  he  had 
dared  take  their  part.  "  Don't  be  ha'sh,  Marthy ! 
Who  knows  but  they  may  do  for  us  when  we  get 


IN  SHADOW.  213 

to  be  old  1 "  And  then  she  turned  and  looked  at 
him  with  utter  contempt.  "  I  can't  stand  it  to 
hear  men-folks  talking  on  what  they  don't  know 
nothing  about,"  said  she.  "The  ways  of  Provi 
dence  is  dreadful  myster'ous,"  she  went  on  with 
a  whine,  instead  of  the  sharp  tone  of  voice  which 
we  had  heard  before.  "  We  've  had  a  hard  row, 
and  we  've  just  got  our  own  children  off  our  hands 
and  able  to  do  for  themselves,  and  now  here  are 
these  to  be  fetched  up." 

"But  perhaps  they  '11  be  a  help  to  yea;  they 
seem  to  be  good  little  things,"  said  Kate.  "  I  saw 
them  in  the  summer,  and  they  seemed  to  be  pleas 
ant  children,  and  it  is  dreadfully  hard  for  them  to 
be  left  alone.  It 's  not  their  fault,  you  know.  We 
brought  over  something  for  them ;  will  you  be 
kind  enough  to  take  the  basket  when  you  go 
home  1 " 

"  Thank  ye,  I  'm  sure,"  said  the  aunt,  relenting 
slightly.  "You  can  speak  to  my  man  about  it, 
and  he  '11  give  it  to  somebody  that 's  going  by. 
I  've  got  to  walk  in  the  procession.  They  '11  be 
obliged,  I  'in  sure.  I  s'pose  you  're  the  young 
ladies  that  come  here  right  after  the  Fourth  o' 
July,  ain't  you  ]  I  should  be  pleased  to  have  you 
call  and  see  the  child'n  if  you  're  over  this  way 


214  DEEP  HAVEN. 

again.  I  heard  'em  talk  about  you  last  time  I 
was  over.  Won't  ye  step  into  the  house  and  see 
him  \  He  looks  real  natural,"  she  added.  But  we 
said,  "  No,  thank  you." 

Leander  told  us  he  believed  he  would  n't  bother 
about  the  dory  that  day,  and  he  should  be  there 
at  the  house  whenever  we  were  ready.  He  evi 
dently  considered  it  a  piece  of  good  luck  that  he 
had  happened  to  arrive  in  time  for  the  funeral. 
We  spoke  to  the  man  about  the  things  we  had 
brought  for  the  children,  which  seemed  to  delight 
him,  poor  soul,  and  we  felt  sure  he  would  be  kind 
to  them.  His  wife  shouted  to  him  from  a  window 
of  the  house  that  he  'd  better  not  loiter  round,  or 
they  would  n't  be  half  ready  when  the  folks  began 
to  come,  and  we  said  good  by  to  him  and  went 
away. 

It  was  a  beautiful  morning,  and  we  walked  slowly 
along  the  shore  to  the  high  rocks  and  the  pitch- 
pine  trees  which  we  had  seen  before  ;  the  air  was 
deliciously  fresh,  and  one  could  take  long  deep 
breaths  of  it.  The  tide  was  coming  in,  and  the 
spray  dashed  higher  and  higher.  We  climbed 
about  the  rocks  and  went  down  in  some  of  the 
deep  cold  clefts  into  which  the  sun  could  seldom 
shine.  We  gathered  some  wild-flowers  ;  bits  of 


7^-  SHADOW.  215 

pimpernel  and  one  or  two  sprigs  of  fringed  gentian 
which  had  bloomed  late  in  a  sheltered  place,  and 
a  pale  little  bouquet  of  asters.  We  sat  for  a  long 
time  looking  off  to  sea,  and  we  could  talk  or  think 
of  almost  nothing  beside  what  we  had  seen  and 
heard  at  the  farm-house.  We  said  how  much  we 
should  like  to  go  to  that  funeral,  and  we  even 
made  up  our  minds  to  go  back  in  season,  but  we 
gave  up  the  idea  :  we  had  no  right  there,  and  it 
would  seem  as  if  we  were  merely  curious,  and  we 
were  afraid  our  presence  would  make  the  people 
ill  at  ease,  the  minister  especially.  It  would  be 
au  intrusion. 

We  spoke  of  the  children,  and  tried  to  think 
what  could  be  done  for  them  :  we  were  afraid  they 
would  be  told  so  many  times  that  it  was  lucky 
they  did  not  have  to  go  to  the  poorhouse,  and  yet 
we  could  not  help  pitying  the  hard-worked,  dis 
couraged  woman  whom  we  had  seen,  in  spite  of 
her  bitterness.  Poor  soul  !  she  looked  like  a  per 
son  to  whom  nobody  had  ever  been  very  kind,  and 
for  whom  life  had  no  pleasures  :  its  sunshine  had 
never  been  warm  enough  to  thaw  the  ice  at  her 
heart. 

We  remembered  how  we  knocked  at  the  door 
and  called  loudly,  but  there  had  been  no  answer, 


216  DEEPHAVEN, 

and  we  wondered  how  we  should  have  felt  if  we 
had  gone  farther  into  the  room  and  had  found 
the  dead  man  in  his  coffin,  all  alone  in  the  house. 
We  thought  of  our  first  visit,  and  what  he  had 
said  to  us,  and  we  wished  we  had  come  again 
sooner,  for  we  might  have  helped  them  so  much 
more  if  we  had  only  known. 

"  What  a  pitiful  ending  it  is,"  said  Kate.  "  Do 
you  realize  that  the  family  is  broken  up,  and  the 
children  are  to  be  half  strangers  to  each  other1? 
Did  you  not  notice  that  they  seemed  very  fond  of 
each  other  when  we  saw  them  in  the  summer  ? 
There  was  not  half  the  roughness  and  apparent 
carelessness  of  one  another  which  one  so  often 
sees  in  the  country.  Theirs  was  such  a  little 
world  ;  one  can  understand  how,  when  the  man's 
wife  died,  he  was  bewildered  and  discouraged, 
utterly  at  a  loss.  The  thoughts  of  winter,  and  of 
the  little  children,  and  of  the  struggles  he  had 
already  come  through  against  poverty  and  disap 
pointment  were  terrible  thoughts ;  and  like  a  boat 
adrift  at  sea,  the  waves  of  his  misery  brought 
him  in  against  the  rocks,  and  his  simple  life  was 
wrecked." 

"I  suppose  his  grandest  hopes  and  wishes  would 
have  been  realized  in  a  good  farm  and  a  thousand 


IN  SHADOW.  217 

or  two  dollars  in  safe  keeping,"  said  I.  "  Do  you  re 
member  that  merry  little  song  in  'As  You  Like  It'] 

'  Who  doth  ambition  shun 
And  loves  to  live  i'  the  sun, 
Seeking  the  food  he  eats, 
And  pleased  with  what  he  gets  ' ; 
and 

'Here  shall  he  see 

No  enemy 
But  winter  and  rough  weather. ' 

That  is  all  he  lived  for,  his  literal  daily  bread.  I 
suppose  what  would  be  prosperity  to  him  would 
be  miserably  insufficient  for  some  other  people. 
I  wonder  how  we  can  help  being  conscious,  in  the 
midst  of  our  comforts  and  pleasures,  of  the  lives 
which  are  being  starved  to  death  in  more  ways 
than  one." 

"  I  suppose  one  thinks  more  about  these  things 
as  one  grows  older,"  said  Kate,  thoughtfully. 
"  How  seldom  life  in  this  world  seems  to  be  a  suc 
cess  !  Among  rich  or  poor  only  hei'e  and  there 
one  touches  satisfaction,  though  the  one  who 
seems  to  have  made  an  utter  failure  may  really  be 
the  greatest  conqueror.  And,  Helen,  I  find  that  I 
understand  better  and  better  how  unsatisfactory, 
how  purposeless  and  disastrous,  any  life  must  be 
which  is  not  a  Christian  life?  It  is  like  being 
10 


218  DEEP  HAVEN. 

always  in  the  dark,  and  wandering  one  knows  not 
where,  if  one  is  not  learning  more  and  more  what 
it  is  to  have  a  friendship  with  God." 

By  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  the  sky  had 
grown  cloudy,  and  a  wind  seemed  to  be  coming 
in  off  the  sea,  and  we  unwillingly  decided  that 
we  must  go  home.  We  supposed  that  the  fu 
neral  would  be  all  over  with,  but  found  we  had 
been  mistaken  when  we  reached  the  cove.  We 
seated  ourselves  on  a  rock  near  the  water ;  just 
beside  us  was  the  old  boat,  with  its  killick  and 
painter  stretched  ashore,  where  its  owner  had 
left  it. 

There  were  several  men  standing  around  the 
door  of  the  house,  looking  solemn  and  important, 
and  by  and  by  one  of  them  came  over  to  us,  and 
we  found  out  a  little  more  of  the  sad  story.  We 
liked  this  man,  there  was  so  much  pity  in  his  face 
and  voice.  "  He  was  a  real  willin',  honest  man, 
Andrew  was,"  said  our  new  friend,  "  but  he  used 
to  be  sickly,  and  seemed  to  have  no  luck,  though 
for  a  year  or  two  he  got  along  some  better.  When 
his  wife  died  he  was  sore  afflicted,  and  could  n't 
get  over  it,  and  he  did  n't  know  what  to  do  or 
what  was  going  to  become  of  'em  with  winter 
comin'  on,  and  —  well  —  I  may  's  well  tell  ye  ; 


IN  SHADOW.  219 

he  took  to  drink  and  it  killed  him  right  off.  I 
come  over  two  or  three  times  and  made  some 
gruel  and  fixed  him  up  's  well 's  I  could,  and  the 
little  gals  done  the  best  they  could,  but  he  faded 
right  out,  and  did  n't  know  anything  the  last  time 
I  see  him,  and  he  died  Sunday  mornin',  when 
the  tide  begun  to  ebb.  I  always  set  a  good  deal 
by  Andrew ;  we  used  to  play  together  down  to  the 
great  cove  ;  that 's  where  he  was  raised,  and  my 
folks  lived  there  too.  I've  got  one  o'  the  little 
gals.  I  always  knowed  him  and  his  wife." 

Just  now  we  heard  the  people  in  the  house  sing 
ing  "  China,"  the  Deephaven  funeral  hymn,  and 
the  tune  siiited  well  that  day,  with  its  wailing 
rise  and  fall ;  it  was  strangely  plaintive.  Then 
the  funeral  exercises  were  over,  and  the  man 
with  whom  we  had  just  been  speaking  led  to  the 
door  a  horse  and  rickety  wagon,  from  which  the 
seat  had  been  taken,  and  when  the  coffin  had 
been  put  in  he  led  the  horse  down  the  road  a  lit 
tle  way,  and  we  watched  the  mourners  come  out 
of  the  house  two  by  two.  We  heard  some  one 
scold  in  a  whisper  because  the  wagon  was  twice  as 
far  off  as  it  need  have  been.  They  evidently  had  a 
rigid  funeral  etiquette,  and  felt  it  important  that 
everything  should  be  carried  out  according  to  rule. 


220  DEEPHA  YEN. 

"We  saw  a  forlorn-looking  kitten,  with  a  bit  of 
faded  braid  round  its  neck,  run  across  the  road  in 
terror  and  presently  appear  again  on  the  stone 
wall,  where  she  sat  looking  at  the  people.  We  saw 
the  dead  man's  eldest  son,  of  whom  he  had  told  us 
in  the  summer  with  such  pride.  He  had  shown 
his  respect  for  his  father  as  best  he  could,  by  a 
black  band  on  his  hat  and  a  pair  of  black  cotton 
gloves  a  world  too  large  for  him.  He  looked  so 
sad,  and  cried  bitterly  as  he  stood  alone  at  the 
head  of  the  people.  His  aunt  was  next,  with  a 
handkerchief  at  her  eyes,  fully  equal  to  the  pro 
prieties  of  the  occasion,  though  I  fear  her  grief 
was  not  so  heartfelt  as  her  husband's,  who  dried 
his  eyes  on  his  coat-sleeve  again  and  again. 
There  were  perhaps  twenty  of  the  mourners,  and 
there  was  much  whispering  among  those  who 
walked  last.  The  minister  and  some  others  fell 
into  line,  and  the  procession  went  slowly  down  the 
slope ;  a  strange  shadow  had  fallen  over  every 
thing.  It  was  like  a  November  day,  for  the  air  felt 
cold  and  bleak.  There  were  some  great  sea-fowl 
high  in  the  air,  fighting  their  way  toward  the  sea 
against  the  wind,  and  giving  now  and  then  a  wild, 
far-off  ringing  cry.  We  could  hear  the  dull  sound 
of  the  sea,  and  at  a  little  distance  from  the  laud 


IN  SHADOW.  221 

the  waves  were  leaping  high,  and  breaking  in  white 
foam  over  the  isolated  ledges. 

The  rest  of  the  people  began  to  walk  or  drive 
away,  but  Kate  and  I  stood  watching  the  funeral 
as  it  crept  along  the  narrow,  crooked  road.  We 
had  never  seen  what  the  people  called  "  walking 
funerals  "  until  we  came  to  Deephaven,  and  there 
was  something  piteous  about  this ;  the  mourners 
looked  so  few,  and  we  could  hear  the  rattle  of  the 
wagon-wheels.  "  He  's  gone,  ain't  he  ? "  said  some 
one  near  us.  That  was  it,  —  gone. 

Before  the  people  had  entered  the  house,  there 
had  been,  I  am  sure,  an  indifferent,  business-like 
look,  but  when  they  came  out,  all  that  was 
changed  ;  their  faces  were  awed  by  the  presence  of 
death,  and  the  indifference  had  given  place  to 
uncertainty.  Their  neighbor  was  immeasurably 
their  superior  now.  Living,  he  had  been  a  failure 
by  their  own  low  standards  ;  but  now,  if  he  could 
come  back,  he  would  know  secrets,  and  be  wise 
beyond  anything  they  could  imagine,  and  who 
could  know  the  riches  of  which  he  might  have 
come  into  possession  1 

To  Kate  and  me  there  came  a  sudden  conscious 
ness  of  the  mystery  and  iuevitablencss  of  death ; 
it  was  not  fear,  thank  God  !  but  a  thought  of 


222  DEEP II A  YEN. 

how  certain  it  was  that  some  day  it  would  bo  a 
mystery  to  us  no  longer.  And  there  was  a  thought, 
too,  of  the  limitation  of  this  present  life  ;  we  were 
waiting  there,  in  company  with  the  people,  the 
great  sea,  and  the  rocks  and  fields  themselves, 
on  this  side  the  boundary.  We  knew  just  then 
how  close  to  this  familiar,  every-day  world  might 
be  the  other,  which  at  times  before  had  seemed 
so  far  away,  out  of  reach  of  even  our  thoughts, 
beyond  the  distant  stars. 

We  stayed  awhile  longer,  until  the  little  black 
funeral  had  crawled  out  of  sight ;  until  we  had 
seen  the  last  funeral  guest  go  away  and  the  door 
had  been  shut  and  fastened  with  a  queer  old  pad 
lock  and  some  links  of  rusty  chain.  The  door 
fitted  loosely,  and  the  man  gave  it  a  vindictive 
shake,  as  if  he  thought  that  the  poor  house  had 
somehow  been  to  blame,  and  that  after  a  long  des 
perate  struggle  for  life  under  its  roof  and  among 
the  stony  fields  the  family  must  go  away  defeated. 
It  is  not  likely  that  any  one  else  will  ever  go  to 
live  there.  The  man  to  whom  the  farm  was  mort 
gaged  will  add  the  few  forlorn  acres  to  his  pasture- 
land,  and  the  thistles  which  the  man  who  is  dead 
had  fought  so  many  years  will  march  in  next  sum 
mer  and  take  unmolested  possession. 


nv  SHADOW.  223 

I  think  to-day  of  that  firelcss,  empty,  forsaken 
house,  where  the  winter  sun  shines  in  and  creeps 
slowly  along  the  floor ;  the  bitter  cold  is  in  and 
around  the  house,  and  the  snow  has  sifted  in  at 
every  crack ;  outside  it  is  untrodden  by  any  living 
creature's  footstep.  The  wind  blows  and  rushes 
and  shakes  the  loose  window-sashes  in  their  frames, 
while  the  padlock  knocks  —  knocks  against  the 
door. 


MISS  CHAUNCEY. 


1HE  Deephaven  peo])le  used  to  say  some- 
times  complacently,  that  certain  things 
or  certain  people  were  "  as  dull  as  East 
Parish."  Kate  and  I  grew  curious  to  see  that 
part  of  the  world  which  was  considered  duller 
than  Deephaven  itself;  and  as  upon  inquiry  we 
found  that  it  was  not  out  of  reach,  one  day  we 
went  there. 

It  was  like  Deephaven,  only  on  a  smaller  scale. 
The  village  —  though  it  is  a  question  whether  that 
is  not  an  exaggerated  term  to  apply  — had  evidently 
seen  better  days.  It  was  on  the  bank  of  a  river, 
and  perhaps  half  a  mile  from  the  sea.  There  were 
a  few  old  buildings  there,  some  with  mossy  roofs 
and  a  great  deal  of  yellow  lichen  on  the  sides  of 
the  walls  next  the  sea ;  a  few  newer  houses,  be 
longing  to  fishermen  ;  some  dilapidated  fish-houses  ; 
and  a  row  of  fish-flakes.  Every  house  seemed  to 
have  a  lane  of  its  own,  and  all  faced  different  ways 


MISS  CHAUNCEY.  225 

except  two  fish-houses,  which  stood  amiably  side 
by  side.  There  was  a  church,  which  we  had  been 
told  was  the  oldest  in  the  region.  Through  the 
windows  we  saw  the  high  pulpit  and  sounding- 
board,  and  finally  found  the  keys  at  a  house  near 
by ;  so  we  went  in  and  looked  around  at  our 
leisure.  A  rusty  foot-stove  stood  in  one  of  the 
old  square  pews,  and  in  the  gallery  there  was  a 
majestic  bass-viol  with  all  its  strings  snapped  but 
the  largest,  which  gave  out  a  doleful  sound  when 
we  touched  it. 

After  we  left  the  church  we  walked  along  the 
road  a  little  way,  and  came  in  sight  of  a  fine  old 
house  which  had  apparently  fallen  into  ruin  years 
before.  The  front  entrance  was  a  fine  specimen 
of  old-fashioned  workmanship,  with  its  columns 
and  carvings,  and  the  fence  had  been  a  grand 
affair  in  its  day,  though  now  it  could  scarcely 
stand  alone.  The  long  range  of  out-buildings  were 
falling  piece  by  piece  ;  one  shed  had  been  blown 
down  entirely  by  a  late  high  wind.  The  large 
windows  had  many  panes  of  glass,  and  the  great 
chimneys  were  built  of  the  bright  red  bricks  which 
used  to  be  brought  from  over-seas  in  the  days  of 
the  colonies.  We  noticed  the  gnarled  lilacs  in  the 
yard,  the  wrinkled  cinnamon-roses,  and  a  flourish- 
10*  o 


226  DEEPHA  YEN. 

ing  company  of  French  pinks,  or  "  bouncing  Bets," 
as  Kate  called  them. 

"  Suppose  we  go  in,"  said  I ;  "  the  door  is  open 
a  little  way.  There  surely  must  be  some  storios 
about  its  being  haunted.  We  will  ask  Miss  Ho- 
nora."  And  we  climbed  over  the  boards  which 
were  put  up  like  pasture-bars  across  the  wide 
front  gateway. 

"  We  shall  certainly  meet  a  ghost,"  said  Kate. 

Just  as  we  stood  on  the  steps  the  door  was 
pulled  wide  open ;  we  started  back,  and,  well- 
grown  young  women  as  we  are,  we  have  confessed 
since  that  our  first  impulse  was  to  run  away.  On 
the  threshold  there  stood  a  stately  old  woman  who 
looked  surprised  at  first  sight  of  us,  then  quickly 
recovered  herself  and  stood  waiting  for  us  to  speak. 
She  was  dressed  in  a  rusty  black  satin  gown,  with 
scant,  short  skirt  and  huge  sleeves ;  on  her  head 
was  a  great  black  bonnet  with  a  high  crown  and 
a  close  brim,  which  came  far  out  over  her  face. 
"  What  is  your  pleasure  1 "  said  she ;  and  we  felt 
like  two  awkward  children.  Kate  partially  recov 
ered  her  wits,  and  asked  which  was  the  nearer 
way  to  Deephaven. 

"  There  is  but  one  road,  past  the  church  and 
over  the  hill.  It  cannot  be  missed."  And  she 


MISS  CHAUNCEY.  227 

bowed  gravely,  when  we  thanked  her  and  begged 
her  pardon,  we  hardly  knew  why,  and  came  away. 

We  looked  back  to  see  her  still  standing  in  the 
doorway.  "  Who  in  the  world  can  she  be  ?"  said 
Kate.  And  we  wondered  and  puzzled  and  talked 
over  "the  ghost"  until  we  saw  Miss  Honora 
Carew,  who  told  us  that  it  was  Miss  Sally  Chaun- 
cey. 

"  Indeed,  I  know  her,  poor  old  soul !  "  said  Miss 
Honora;  "she  has  such  a  sad  history.  She  is 
the  last  survivor  of  one  of  the  most  aristocratic 
old  colonial  families.  The  Chaunceys  were  of 
great  renown  until  early  in  the  present  century, 
and  then  their  fortunes  changed.  They  had  al 
ways  been  rich  and  well-educated,  and  I  suppose 
nobody  ever  had  a  gayer,  happier  time  than  Miss 
Sally  did  in  her  girlhood,  for  they  entertained  a 
great  deal  of  company  and  lived  in  fine  style ;  but 
her  father  was  unfortunate  in  business,  and  at  last 
was  utterly  ruined  at  the  time  of  the  embargo ; 
then  he  became  partially  insane,  and  died  after 
many  years  of  poverty.  I  have  often  heard  a 
tradition  that  a  sailor  to  whom  he  had  broken  a 
promise  had  cursed  him,  and  that  none  of  the 
family  had  died  in  their  beds  or  had  any  good 
luck  since.  The  East  Parish  people  seem  to  be- 


228  DEEPHA  YEN. 

lieve  in  it,  and  it  is  certainly  strange  what  terrible 
sorrow  has  come  to  the  Channceys.  One  of  Miss 
Sally's  brothers,  a  fine  young  officer  in  the  navy, 
who  was  at  home  on  leave,  asked  her  one  day  if 
she  could  get  on  without  him,  and  she  said  yes, 
thinking  he  meant  to  go  back  to  sea ;  but  in  a  few 
minutes  she  heard  the  noise  of  a  pistol  in  his 
room,  and  hurried  in  to  find  him  lying  dead  on 
the  floor.  Then  there  was  another  brother  who 
was  insane,  and  who  became  so  violent  that  he 
was  chained  for  years  in  one  of  the  upper  cham 
bers,  a  dangerous  prisoner  I  have  heard  his  hor 
rid  cries  myself,  when  I  was  a  young  girl,"  said 
Miss  Honora,  with  a  shiver. 

"  Miss  Sally  is  insane,  and  has  been  for  many 
years,  and  this  seems  to  me  the  saddest  part  of 
the  story.  When  she  first  lost  her  reason  she  was 
sent  to  a  hospital,  for  there  was  no  one  who  could 
take  care  of  her.  The  mania  was  so  acute  that 
no  one  had  the  slightest  thought  that  she  would 
recover  or  even  live  long.  Her  guardian  sold  the 
furniture  and  pictures  and  china,  almost  every 
thing  but  clothing,  to  pay  the  bills  at  the  hospital, 
until  the  house  was  fairly  empty ;  and  then  one 
spring  day,  I  remember  it  well,  she  came  home  in 
her  right  mind,  and,  without  a  thought  of  what 


MISS  CHAUXCEY.  229 

was  awaiting  her,  ran  eagerly  into  her  home.  It 
was  a  terrible  shock,  and  she  never  has  recovered 
from  it,  though  after  a  long  illness  her  insanity 
took  a  mild  form,  and  she  has  always  been  perfectly 
harmless.  She  has  been  alone  many  years,  and 
no  one  can  persuade  her  to  leave  the  old  house, 
where  she  seems  to  be  contented,  and  does  not 
realize  her  troubles ;  though  she  lives  mostly  in 
the  past,  and  has  little  idea  of  the  present,  except 
in  her  house  affairs,  which  seem  pitiful  to  me,  for 
I  remember  the  housekeeping  of  the  Chaunceys 
when  I  was  a  child.  I  have  always  been  to  see 
her,  and  she  usually  knows  me,  though  I  have  been 
but  seldom  of  late  years.  She  is  several  years 
older  than  I.  The  town  makes  her  an  allowance 
every  year,  and  she  has  some  friends  who  take 
care  that  she  does  not  suffer,  though  her  wants 
are  few.  She  is  an  elegant  woman  still,  and  some 
day,  if  you  like,  I  will  give  you  something  to  carry 
to  her,  and  a  message,  if  I  can  think  of  one,  and 
you  must  go  to  make  her  a  call.  I  hope  she  will 
happen  to  be  talkative,  for  I  am  sure  you  would 
enjoy  her.  For  many  years  she  did  not  like  to  see 
strangers,  but  some  one  has  told  me  lately  that  she 
seems  to  be  pleased  if  people  go  to  see  her.'' 

You  may  be  sure  it  was  not  many  days  before 


230  DEEP II A  YEN. 

Kate  and  I  claimed  the  basket  and  the  message, 
and  went  again  to  East  Parish.  We  boldly  lifted 
the  great  brass  knocker,  and  were  dismayed  be 
cause  nobody  answered.  While  we  waited,  a  girl 
came  up  the  walk  and  said  that  Miss  Sully  lived 
up  stairs,  and  she  would  speak  to  her  if  we  liked. 
"  Sometimes  she  don't  have  sense  enough  to  know 
what  the  knocker  means,"  we  were  told.  There 
was  evidently  no  romance  about  Miss  Sally  to  our 
new  acquaintance. 

"  Do  you  think,"  said  I,  "  that  we  might  go  in 
and  look  around  the  lower  rooms'?  Perhaps  she 
will  refuse  to  see  us." 

"Yes,  indeed,"  said  the  girl;  "only  run  the 
minute  I  speak ;  you  '11  have  time  enough,  for  she 
walks  slow  and  is  a  little  deaf." 

So  we  went  into  the  great  hall  with  its  wide 
staircase  and  handsome  cornices  and  panelling,  and 
then  into  the  large  parlor  on  the  right,  and  through 
it  to  a  smaller  room  looking  out  on  the  garden, 
which  sloped  down  to  the  river.  Both  rooms  had 
fine  carved  mantels,  with  Dutch-tiled  fireplaces, 
and  in  the  cornices  we  saw  the  fastenings  where 
pictures  had  huug,  — old  portraits,  perhaps.  And 
what  had  become  of  them  1  The  girl  did  not 
know  :  the  house  had  been  the  same  ever  since 


unss  CHAUNCEY.  231 

she  could  remember,  only  it  would  all  fall  through 
into  the  cellar  soon.  But  the  old  lady  was  proud 
as  Lucifer,  and  would  n't  hear  of  moving  out. 

The  floor  in  the  room  toward  the  river  was  so 
broken  that  it  was  not  safe,  and  we  came  back 
through  the  hall  and  opened  the  door  at  the  foot 
of  the  stairs.  "  Guess  you  won't  want  to  stop  long 
there,"  said  the  girl.  Three  old  hens  and  a  rooster 
marched  toward  us  with  great  solemnity  when  we 
looked  in.  The  cobwebs  hung  in  the  room,  as  they 
often  do  in  old  barns,  in  long,  gray  festoons ;  the 
lilacs  outside  grew  close  against  the  two  windows 
where  the  shutters  were  not  drawn,  and  the  light 
in  the  room  was  greenish  and  dim. 

Then  we  took  our  places  on  the  threshold,  and 
the  girl  went  up  stairs  and  announced  us  to  Miss 
Sally,  and  in  a  few  minutes  we  heard  her  come 
along  the  hall. 

"  Sophia,"  said  she,  "  where  are  the  gentry  wait 
ing] "  And  just  then  she  came  in  sight  round  the 
turn  of  the  staircase.  She  wore  the  same  great 
black  bonnet  and  satin  gown,  and  looked  more  old- 
fashioned  and  ghostly  than  before.  She  was  not 
tall,  but  very  erect,  in  spite  of  her  great  age,  and 
her  eyes  seemed  to  "look  through  you"  in  an  un 
canny  way.  She  slowly  descended  the  stairs  and 


232  DEEPHAVEN. 

came  toward  us  with  a  courteous  greeting,  and 
when  we  had  introduced  ourselves  as  Miss  Carew's 
friends  she  gave  us  each  her  hand  in  a  most  cordial 
way  and  said  she  was  pleased  to  see  us.  She  bowed 
us  into  the  parlor  and  brought  us  two  rickety, 
straight-backed  chairs,  which,  with  an  old  table, 
were  all  the  furniture  there  was  in  the  room.  "  Sit 
ye  down,"  said  she,  herself  taking  a  place  in  the 
window-seat.  I  have  seen  few  more  elegant  women 
than  Miss  Chauncey.  Thoroughly  at  her  ease,  she 
had  the  manner  of  a  lady  of  the  olden  times,  using 
the  quaint  fashion  of  speech  which  she  had  been 
taught  in  her  girlhood.  The  long  words  and  cere 
monious  phrases  suited  her  extremely  well.  Her 
hands  were  delicately  shaped,  and  she  folded  them 
in  her  lap,  as  no  doubt  she  had  learned  to  do  at 
boarding-school  so  many  years  before.  She  asked 
Kate  and  me  if  we  knew  any  young  ladies  at  that 
school  in  Boston,  saying  that  most  of  her  intimate 
friends  had  left  when  she  did,  but  some  of  the 
younger  ones  were  there  still. 

She  asked  for  the  Carews  and  Mr.  Lorimer,  and 
when  Kate  told  her  that  she  was  Miss  Brandon's 
niece,  and  asked  if  she  had  not  known  her,  she  said, 
"  Certainly,  my  dear  ;  we  were  intimate  friends  at 
one  time,  but  I  have  seen  her  little  of  late." 


MISS  CHAUNCEY.  233 

"  Do  you  not  know  that  she  is  dead  1 "  asked 
Kate. 

"  Ah,  they  say  every  one  is  '  dead,'  nowadays. 
I  do  not  comprehend  the  silly  idea  !  "  said  the  old 
lady,  impatiently.  "  It  is  an  excuse,  I  suppose. 
She  could  come  to  see  me  if  she  chose,  but  she  was 
always  a  ceremonious  body,  and  I  go  abroad  but 
seldom  now ;  so  perhaps  she  waits  my  visit.  I 
will  not  speak  uncourteously,  and  you  must  re 
member  me  to  her  kindly." 

Then  she  asked  us  about  other  old  people  in 
Deephaven,  and  about  families  in  Boston  whom 
she  had  known  in  her  early  days.  I  think  every 
cue  of  whom  she  spoke  was  dead,  but  we  assured 
her  that  they  were  all  well  and  prosperous,  and 
we  hoped  we  told  the  truth.  She  asked  about  the 
love-affairs  of  men  and  women  who  had  died  old 
and  gray-headed  within  our  remembrance ;  and 
finally  she  said  we  must  pardon  her  for  these  tire 
some  questions,  but  it  was  so  rarely  she  saw  any 
one  direct  from  Boston,  of  whom  she  could  inquire 
concerning  these  old  friends  and  relatives  of  her 
family. 

Something  happened  after  this  which  touched  us 
both  inexpressibly  :  she  sat  for  some  time  watch 
ing  Kate  with  a  bewildered  look,  which  at  last 


234  DEEPHAVEN. 

faded  away,  a  smile  coming  in  its  place.  "  I  think 
you  are  like  my  mother,"  she  said  ;  "  did  any  one 
ever  say  to  you  that  you  are  like  my  mother] 
Will  you  let  me  see  your  forehead  1  Yes  ;  and 
your  hair  is  only  a  little  darker."  Kate  had  risen 
when  Miss  Chauncey  did,  and  they  stood  side  by 
side.  There  was  a  tone  in  the  old  lady's  voice 
which' brought  the  tears  to  my  eyes.  She  stood 
there  some  minutes  looking  at  Kate.  I  wonder 
what  her  thoughts  were.  There  was  a  kinship,  it 
seemed  to  me,  not  of  blood,  only  that  they  both 
were  of  the  same  stamp  and  rank  :  Miss  Chauncey 
of  the  old  generation  and  Kate  Lancaster  of  the 
new.  Miss  Chauncey  turned  to  me,  saying,  "  Look 
up  at  the  portrait  and  you  will  see  the  likeness  too, 
I  think."  But  when  she  turned  and  saw  the  bare 
wainscoting  of  the  room,  she  looked  puzzled,  and 
the  bright  flash  which  had  lighted  up  her  face  was 
gone  in  an  instant,  and  she  sat  down  again  in  the 
window-scat ;  but  we  were  glad  that  she  had  for 
gotten.  Presently  she  said,  "  Pardon  me,  but  I 
forget  your  question." 

Miss  Carew  had  told  us  to  ask  her  about  her 
school-days,  as  she  nearly  always  spoke  of  that 
time  to  her ;  and,  to  our  delight,  Miss  Sally  told 
us  a  long  story  about  her  friends  and  about  her 


MISS  CHAUNCEY.  235 

"  coming-out  party,"  when  boat-loads  of  gay  young 
guests  came  down  from  Riverport,  and  all  the 
gentry  from  Deephaven.  The  band  from  the  fort 
played  for  the  dancing,  the  garden  was  lighted,  the 
card-tables  were  in  this  room,  and  a  grand  supper 
was  served.  She  also  remembered  what  some  of 
her  friends  wore,  and  her  own  dress  was  a  silver- 
gray  brocade  with  rosebuds  of  three  colors.  She 
told  us  how  she  watched  the  boats  go  off  up  river 
in  the  middle  of  the  summer  night ;  how  sweet  the 
music  sounded ;  how  bright  the  moonlight  was ; 
how  she  wished  we  had  been  there  at  her  party. 

"  I  can't  believe  I  am  an  old  woman.  It  seems 
only  yesterday,"  said  she,  thoughtfully.  And  then 
she  lost  the  idea,  and  talked  about  Kate's  great- 
grandmother,  whom  she  had  known,  and  asked  us 
how  she  had  been  this  summer. 

She  asked  us  if  we  would  like  to  go  up  stairs 
where  she  had  a  fire,  and  we  eagerly  accepted, 
though  we  were  not  in  the  least  cold.  Ah,  what 
a  sorry  place  it  was  !  She  had  gathered  together 
some  few  pieces  of  her  old  furniture,  which  half 
filled  one  fine  room,  and  here  she  lived.  There 
was  a  tall,  handsome  chest  of  drawers,  which  I 
should  have  liked  much  to  ransack.  Miss  Carew 
had  told  us  that  Miss  Chauncey  had  large  claims 


236  DEEPHA  YEN. 

against  the  government,  dating  back  sixty  or 
seventy  years,  but  nobody  could  ever  find  the 
papers  ;  and  I  felt  sure  that  they  must  be  hidden 
away  in  some  secret  drawer.  The  brass  handles 
and  trimmings  were  blackened,  and  the  wood 
looked  like  ebony.  I  wanted  to  climb  up  and  look 
into  the  upper  part  of  this  antique  piece  of  furni 
ture,  and  it  seemed  to  me  I  could  at  once  put  my 
hand  on  a  package  of  "  papers  relating  to  the  em 
bargo." 

On  a  stand  near  the  window  was  an  old  Bible, 
fairly  worn  out  with  constant  use.  Miss  Chauncey 
was  religious  ;  in  fact,  it  was  the  only  subject  about 
which  she  was  perfectly  sane.  We  saw  almost 
nothing  of  her  insanity  that  day,  though  afterward 
she  was  different.  There  were  days  when  her 
mind  seemed  clear;  but  sometimes  she  was  si 
lent,  and  often  she  would  confuse  Kate  with  Miss 
Brandon,  and  talk  to  her  of  long-forgotten  plans 
and  people.  She  would  rarely  speak  of  anything 
more  than  a  minute  or  two,  and  then  would  drift 
into  an  entirely  foreign  subject. 

She  urged  us  that  afternoon  to  stay  to  luncheon 
with  her;  she  said  she  could  not  offer  us  dinner, 
but  she  would  give  us  tea  and  biscuit,  and  no 
doubt  we  should  find  something  in  Miss  Carew's 


MISS  CHAUXCEY  237 

basket,  as  she  was  always  kind  in  remembering 
her  fancies.  Miss  Honora  had  told  us  to  decline, 
if  she  asked  us  to  stay ;  but  I  should  have  liked 
to  see  her  sit  at  the  head  of  her  table,  and  to  be  a 
guest  at  such  a  lunch-party. 

Poor  creature  !  it  was  a  blessed  thing  that  her 
shattered  reason  made  her  unconscious  of  the 
change  in  her  fortunes,  and  incapable  of  compar 
ing  the  end  of  her  life  with  its  beginning.  To  her 
self  she  was  still  Miss  Chauncey,  a  gentlewoman 
of  high  family,  possessed  of  unusual  worldly  ad 
vantages.  The  remembrance  of  her  cruel  trials 
and  sorrows  had  faded  from  her  mind.  She  had 
no  idea  of  the  poverty  of  her  surroundings  when 
she  paced  back  and  forth,  with  stately  steps,  on 
the  ruined  terraces  of  her  garden  ;  the  ranks  of 
lilies  and  the  conserve-roses  were  still  in  bloom 
for  her,  and  the  box-borders  were  as  trimly  kept 
as  ever ;  and  when  she  pointed  out  to  us  the 
distant  steeples  of  Riverport,  it  was  plain  to  see 
that  it  was  still  the  Riverport  of  her  girlhood. 
If  the  boat-landing  at  the  foot  of  the  garden  had 
long  ago  dropped  into  the  river  and  gone  out  with 
the  tide ;  if  the  maids  and  men  who  used  to  do 
her  bidding  were  all  out  of  hearing ;  if  there  had 
been  no  dinner  company  that  day  and  no  guests 


238  DEEP  HA  YEN. 

were  expected  for  the  evening,  —  what  did  it  mat 
ter1?  The  twilight  hud  closed  around  her  gradu 
ally,  and  she  was  alone  in  her  house,  but  she  did 
not  heed  the  ruin  of  it  or  the  absence  of  her 
friends.  On  the  morrow,  life  would  again  go  on. 

We  always  used  to  ask  her  to  read  the  Bible  to 
us,  after  Mr.  Lorimer  had  told  us  how  grand  and 
beautiful  it  was  to  listen  to  her.  I  shall  never 
hear  some  of  the  Psalms  or  some  chapters  of 
Isaiah  again  without  being  reminded  of  her ;  and 
I  remember  just  now,  as  I  write,  one  summer  af 
ternoon  when  Kate  and  I  had  lingered  later  than 
usual,  and  we  sat  in  the  upper  room  looking  out 
on  the  river  and  the  shore  beyond,  where  the 
light  had  begun  to  grow  golden  as  the  day  drew 
near  sunset.  Miss  Sally  had  opened  the  great 
book  at  random  and  read  slowly,  "  In  my  Father's 
house  are  many  mansions  "  ;  and  then,  looking  oil' 
for  a  moment  at  a  leaf  which  had  drifted  into 
the  window-recess,  she  repeated  it  :  "  In  my  Fa 
ther's  house  are  many  mansions  ;  if  it  were  not  so, 
I  would  have  told  you."  Then  she  went  on  slowly 
to  the  end  of  the  chapter,  and  with  her  hands 
clasped  together  on  the  Bible  she  fell  into  a  rev 
erie,  and  the  tears  came  into  our  eyes  as  we 
watched  her  look  of  perfect  content.  Through  all 


MISS  CHAUNCEY.  239 

her  clouded  years  the  promises  of  God  had  been 
her  only  certainty. 

Miss  Chauncey  died  early  in  the  winter  after 
we  left  Deephaven,  and  one  day  when  I  was  visit 
ing  Kate  in  Boston  Mr.  Lorimer  came  to  see  us, 
and  told  us  about  her. 

It  seems  that  after  much  persuasion  she  was 
induced  to  go  to  spend  the  winter  with  a  neighbor, 
her  house  having  become  uninhabitable,  and  she 
was,  beside,  too  feeble  to  live  alone.  But  her 
fondness  for  her  old  home  was  too  strong,  and  one 
day  she  stole  away  from  the  people  who  took  care 
of  her,  and  crept  in  through  the  cellar,  where  she 
had  to  wade  through  half-frozen  water,  and  then 
went  up  stairs,  where  she  seated  herself  at  a 
front  window  and  called  joyfully  to  the  people 
who  went  by,  asking  them  to  come  in  to  see  her, 
as  she  had  got  home  again.  After  this  she  was 
very  ill,  and  one  day,  when  she  was  half  delirious, 
they  missed  her,  and  found  her  at  last  sitting  on 
her  hall  stairway,  which  she  was  too  feeble  to 
climb.  She  lived  but  a  short  time  afterwards, 
and  in  her  last  days  her  mind  seemed  perfectly 
clear.  She  said  over  and  over  again  how  good 
God  had  always  been  to  her,  and  she  was  gentle, 
and  unwilling  to  be  a  trouble  to  those  who  had 
the  care  of  her. 


240  DEEPIIA  YEN. 

Mr.  Lorimcr  spoke  of  her  simple  goodness,  and 
told  us  that  though  she  had  no  other  sense  of 
time,  and  hardly  knew  if  it  were  summer  or  win 
ter,  she  was  always  sure  when  Sunday  came,  and 
always  came  to  church  when  he  preached  at  East 
Parish,  her  greatest  pleasure  seeming  to  be  to  give 
money,  if  there  was  a  contribution.  "  She  may 
be  a  lesson  to  us,"  added  the  old  minister,  rever 
ently  ;  "  for,  though  bewildered  in  mind,  bereft  of 
riches  and  friends  and  all  that  makes  this  world 
dear  to  many  of  us,  she  was  still  steadfast  in  her 
simple  faith,  and  was  never  heard  to  complain  of 
any  of  the  burdens  which  God  had  given  her." 


LAST   DAYS   IN  DEEPHAVEN. 

HEN  the  summer  was  ended  it  was  uo 
sorrow  to  us,  for  we  were  even  more 
fond  of  Deephaven  in  the  glorious  au 
tumn  weather  than  we  had  ever  been  before.  Mr. 
Lancaster  was  abroad  longer  than  he  had  intended 
to  be  at  first,  and  it  was  late  in  the  season  before 
we  left.  We  were  both  ready  to  postpone  going 
back  to  town  as  late  as  possible  :  but  at  last  it 
was  time  for  my  friend  to  re-establish  the  Boston 
housekeeping,  arid  to  take  up  the  city  life  again. 
I  must  admit  we  half  dreaded  it :  we  were  sur 
prised  to  find  how  little  we  cared  for  it,  and  how 
well  one  can  get  on  without  many  things  which 
are  thought  indispensable. 

For  the  last  fortnight  we  were  in  the  house 
a  good  deal,  because  the  weather  was  wet  and 
dreary.  At  one  time  there  was  a  magnificent 
storm,  and  we  went  every  day  along  the  shore  in 
the  wind  and  rain  for  a  mile  or  two  to  see  the  fu 
ll  p 


242  DEEPI1A  YEN. 

rious  great  breakers  come  plunging  in  against  the 
rocks.  I  never  had  seen  such  a  wild,  stormy  sea 
as  that ;  the  rage  of  it  was  awful,  and  the  whole 
harbor  was  white  with  foam.  The  wind  had 
blown  northeast  steadily  for  days,  and  it  seemed 
to  me  that  the  sea  never  could  be  quiet  and 
smooth  and  blue  again,  with  soft  white  clouds 
sailing  over  it  in  the  sky.  It  was  a  treacherous 
sea;  it  was  wicked  ;  it  had 'all  the  trembling  land 
in  its  power,  if  it  only  dared  to  send  its  great 
waves  far  ashore.  All  night  long  the  breakers 
roared,  and  the  wind  howled  in  the  chimneys,  and 
in  the  morning  we  always  looked  fearfully  across 
the  surf  and  the  tossing  gray  water  to  see  if  the 
lighthouse  were  standing  firm  on  its  rock.  It 
was  so  slender  a  thing  to  hold  its  own  in  such  a 
wide  and  monstrous  sea.  But  the  sun  came  out 
at  last,  and  not  many  days  afterward  we  went  out 
with  Danny  and  Skipper  Scudder  to  say  good  by 
to  Mrs.  Kew.  I  have  been  some  voyages  at  sea, 
but  I  never  was  so  danced  about  in  a  little  boat 
as  I  was  that  day.  There  was  nothing  to  fear 
with  so  careful  a  crew,  and  we  only  enjoyed  the 
roughness  as  we  went  out  and  in,  though  it  took 
much  manoeuvring  to  laud  us  at  the  island. 

It   was   very   sad    work   to   us  —  saying  good 


LAST  DAYS  IN  DEEPHAVEN.  243 

by  to  our  friends,  and  we  tried  to  make  be 
lieve  that  we  should  spend  the  next  summer 
in  Deephaven,  and  we  meant  at  any  rate  to  go 
down  for  a  visit.  We  were  glad  when  the  people 
said  they  should  miss  us,  and  that  they  hoped  we 
should  not  forget  them  and  the  old  place.  It 
touched  us  to  find  that  they  cai-ed  so  much  for  us, 
and  we  said  over  and  over  again  how  happy  we 
had  been,  and  that  it  was  such  a  satisfactory  sum 
mer.  Kate  laughingly  proposed  one  evening,  as 
we  sat  talking  by  the  fire  and  were  particularly 
contented,  that  we  should  copy  the  Ladies  of 
Llangollcn,  and  remove  ourselves  from  society  and 
its  distractions. 

"  I  have  thought  often,  lately,"  said  my  friend, 
"  what  a  good  time  they  must  have  had,  and  I 
feel  a  sympathy  and  friendliness  for  them  which  I 
never  felt  before.  We  could  have  guests  when  we 
chose,  as  we  have  had  this  summer,  and  we  could 
study  and  grow  very  wise,  and  what  could  be 
pleasanter  1  But  I  wonder  if  we  should  grow  very 
lazy  if  we  stayed  here  all  the  year  round  ;  village 
life  is  not  stimulating,  and  there  would  not  be 
much  to  do  in  winter,  —  though  I  do  not  believe 
that  need  be  true  ;  one  may  be  busy  and  useful  in 
any  place." 


244  DEEPHA  YEN. 

"  I  suppose  if  we  really  belonged  in  Deephaven 
we  should  think  it  a  hard  fate,  and  not  enjoy  it 
half  so  much  as  we  have  this  summer,"  said  I. 
"  Our  idea  of  happiness  would  be  making  long 
visits  in  Boston ;  and  we  should  be  heart-broken 
when  we  had  to  come  away  and  leave  our  lunch- 
parties,  and  symphony  concerts,  and  calls,  and 
fairs,  the  reading-club  and  the  childrens'  hospital. 
We  should  think  the  people  uncongenial  and  behind 
the  times,  and  that  the  Ridge  road  was  stupid  and 
the  long  sands  desolate  ;  while  we  remembered  what 
delightful  walks  we  had  taken  out  Beacon  Street 
to  the  three  roads,  and  over  the  Cambridge  Bridge. 
Perhaps  we  should  even  be  ashamed  of  the  dear 
old  church  for  being  so  out  of  fashion.  We  should 
have  the  blues  dreadfully,  and  think  there  was  no 
society  here,  and  wonder  why  we  had  to  live  in 
such  a  town." 

"  What  n  gloomy  picture  !  "  said  Kate,  laughing. 
"  Do  you  know  that  I  have  understood  something 
lately  better  than  I  ever  did  before,  —  it  is  that 
success  and  happiness  are  not  things  of  chance 
with  us,  but  of  choice.  I  can  see  how  we  might 
so  easily  have  had  a  dull  summer  here.  Of 
course  it  is  our  own  fault  if  the  events  of  our  lives 
are  hindrances ;  it  is  we  who  make  them  bad  or 


LAST  DAYS  IN  DEEPHAVEN.  245 

good.  Sometimes  it  is  a  conscious  choice,  but 
oftener  unconscious.  I  suppose  we  educate  our 
selves  for  taking  the  best  of  life  or  the  worst,  do 
not  you  1 " 

"  Dear  old  Deephaven  !  "  said  Kate,  gently,  after 
we  had  been  silent  a  little  while.  "  It  makes  me 
think  of  one  of  its  own  old  ladies,  with  its  clinging 
to  the  old  fashions  and  its  respect  for  what  used 
to  be  respectable  when  it  was  young.  I  cannot 
make  fun  of  what  was  once  dear  to  somebody,  and 
which  realized  somebody's  ideas  of  beauty  or  fitness. 
I  don't  dispute  the  usefulness  of  a  new,  bustling, 
manufacturing  town  with  its  progressive  ideas ; 
but  there  is  a  simple  dignity  in  a  town  like  Deep- 
haven,  as  if  it  tried  to  be  loyal  to  the  traditions  of 
its  ancestors.  It  quietly  accepts  its  altered  circum 
stances,  if  it  has  seen  better  days,  and  has  no  harsh 
feelings  toward  the  places  which  have  drawn  away 
its  business,  but  it  lives  on,  making  its  old  houses 
and  boats  and  clothes  last  as  long  as  possible." 

"  I  think  one  cannot  help,"  said  I,  "  having  a 
different  affection  for  an  old  place  like  Deep- 
haven  from  that  which  one  may  have  for  a  newer 
town.  Here — though  there  are  no  exciting  his 
torical  associations  and  none  of  the  veneration 
which  one  has  for  the  very  old  cities  and  towns 


246  DEEPHA  YEN. 

abroad  —  it  is  impossible  not  to  remember  how 
many  people  have  walked  the  streets  and  lived  in 
the  houses.  I  was  thinking  to-day  how  many  girls 
might  have  grown  up  in  this  house,  and  that  their 
places  have  been  ours ;  we  have  inherited  their 
pleasures,  and  perhaps  have  carried  on  work  which 
they  began.  We  sit  in  somebody's  favorite  chair 
and  look  out  of  the  windows  at  the  sea,  and  have 
our  wishes  and  our  hopes  and  plans  just  as  they 
did  before  us.  Something  of  them  still  lingers 
where  their  lives  were  spent.  We  are  often  re 
minded  of  our  friends  who  have  died  ;  why  are 
we  not  reminded  as  surely  of  strangers  in  such  a 
house  as  this,  —  finding  some  trace  of  the  lives 
•which  were  lived  among  the  sights  we  see  and  the 
things  we  handle,  as  the  incense  of  many  masses 
lingers  in  some  old  cathedral,  and  one  catches  the 
spirit  of  longing  and  prayer  where  so  many  heavy 
hearts  have  brought  their  burdens  and  have  gone 
away  comforted  ] " 

"  When  I  first  came  here,"  said  Kate,  "  it  used 
to  seem  very  sad  to  me  to  find  Aunt  Katharine's 
little  trinkets  lying  about  the  house.  I  have  often 
thought  of  what  you  have  just  said.  I  heard  Mrs. 
Patton  say  the  other  day  that  there  is  no  pocket 
in  a  shroud,  and  of  course  it  is  better  that  we 


LAST  DATS  IN  VEEPHAVEN.  247 

should  carry  nothing  out  of  this  world.  Yet  I 
can't  help  wishing  that  it  were  possible  to  keep 
some  of  my  worldly  goods  always.  There  are  one 
or  two  books  of  mine  and  some  little  things  which 
I  have  had  a  long  time,  and  of  which  I  have  grown 
very  fond.  It  makes  me  so  sorry  to  think  of  their 
being  neglected  and  lost.  I  cannot  believe  I  shall 
forget  these  earthly  treasures  when  I  am  in  heaven, 
and  I  wonder  if  I  shall  not  miss  them.  Is  n't  it 
strange  to  think  of  not  reading  one's  Bible  any 
more  1  I  suppose  this  is  a  very  low  view  of 
heaven,  don't  you  1 "  And  we  both  smiled. 

"  I  think  the  next  dwellers  in  this  house  ought 
to  find  a  decided  atmosphere  of  contentment,"  said 
I.  "  Have  you  ever  thought  that  it  took  us  some 
time  to  make  it  your  house  instead  of  Miss  Bran 
don's1?  It  used  to  seem  to  me  that  it  was  still 
under  her  management,  that  she  was  its  mistress ; 
but  now  it  belongs  to  you,  and  if  I  were  ever  to 
come  back  without  you  I  should  find  you  here." 

It  is  bewildering  to  know  that  this  is  the  last 
chapter,  and  that  it  must  not  be  long.  I  remem 
ber  so  many  of  our  pleasures  of  which  I  have 
hardly  said  a  word.  There  were  our  guests,  of 
whom  I  have  told  you  nothing,  and  of  whom  there 


248  DEEPHA  YEN. 

was  so  much  to  say.  Of  course  we  asked  my  Aunt 
Mary  to  visit  us,  and  Miss  Margaret  Tennant,  and 
many  of  our  girl-friends.  All  the  people  we  know 
who  have  yachts  made  the  port  of  Deephaven 
if  they  were  cruising  in  the  neighboring  waters. 
Once  a  most  cheerful  party  of  Kate's  cousins  and 
some  other  young  people  whom  we  knew  very 
well  came  to  visit  us  in  this  way,  and  the  yacht  was 
kept  in  the  harbor  a  week  or  more,  while  we  were 
all  as  gay  as  bobolinks  and  went  frisking  about  the 
country,  and  kept  late  hours  in  the  sober  old  Bran 
don  house.  My  Aunt  Mary,  who  was  with  us,  and 
Kate's  aunt,  Mrs.  Thorniford,  who  knew  the  Carews, 
and  was  commander  of  the  yacht-party,  tried  to 
keep  us  in  order,  and  to  make  us  ornaments  to 
Deephaven  society  instead  of  reproaches  and  stum 
bling  blocks.  Kate's  younger  brothers  were  with 
us,  waiting  until  it  was  time  for  them  to  go  back 
to  college,  and  I  think  there  never  had  been  such 
picnics  in  Deephaven  before,  and  I  fear  there  never 
will  be  again. 

We  are  fond  of  reading,  and  we  meant  to  do  a 
great  deal  of  it,  as  eveiy  one  does  who  goes  away 
for  the  summer  ;  but  I  must  confess  that  our  grand 
plans  were  not  well  carried  out.  Our  German 
dictionaries  were  on  the  table  in  the  west  parlor 


LAST  DAYS  IN  DEEPHAVEN.  249 

until  the  sight  of  them  mortified  us,  and  finally, 
to  avoid  their  silent  reproach,  I  put  them  in  the 
closet,  with  the  excuse  that  it  would  be  as  easy  to 
get  them  there,  and  they  would  be  out  of  the  way. 
We  used  to  have  the  magazines  sent  us  from  town  ; 
you  would  have  smiled  at  the  box  of  books  which 
we  carried  to  Deephaven,  and  indeed  we  sent  two 
or  three  times  for  others  ;  but  I  do  not  remember 
that  we  ever  carried  out  that  course  of  study  which 
we  had  planned  with  so  much  interest.  We  were 
out  of  doors  so  much  that  there  was  often  little 
time  for  anything  else. 

Kate  said  one  day  that  she  did  not  care,  in 
reading,  to  be  always  making  new  acquaintances, 
but  to  be  seeing  more  of  old  ones ;  and  I  think 
it  a  very  wise  idea.  We  each  have  our  pet  books ; 
Kate  carries  with  her  a  much-worn  copy  of  "  Mr. 
Rutherford's  Children,"  which  has  been  her  delight 
ever  since  she  can  remember.  Sibyl  and  Chryssa 
are  dear  old  friends,  though  I  suppose  now  it  is  not 
merely  what  Kate  reads,  but  what  she  associates 
with  the  story.  I  am  not  often  separated  from 
Jean  Ingelow's  "  Stories  told  to  a  Child,"  that 
charmingly  wise  and  pleasant  little  book.  It  is 
always  new,  like  Kate's  favorite.  It  is  very  hard 
to  make  a  list  of  the  books  one  likes  best,  but  I 
11  * 


250  DEEPHA  YEN. 

remember  that  we  had  "  The  Village  on  the  Cliff," 
and  "  Henry  Esmond,"  and  "  Tom  Brown  at  Rug 
by,"  with  his  more  serious  ancestor,  "  Sir  Thomas 
Browne."  I  am  sure  we  had  "  Fenelon,"  for  we 
always  have  that ;  and  there  was  "  Pet  Marjorie," 
and  "Rab,"  and  "Annals  of  a  Parish,"  and  "The 
Life  of  the  Reverend  Sydney  Smith  "  ;  beside  Miss 
Tytler's  "  Days  of  Yore,"  and  "  The  Holy  and 
Profane  State,"  by  Thomas  Fuller,  from  which 
Kate  gets  so  much  entertainment  and  profit.  We 
read  Mr.  Emerson's  essays  together,  out  of  doors, 
and  some  stories  which  had  been  our  dear  friends 
at  school,  like  "  Leslie  Goldthwaite."  There  was  a 
very  good  library  in  the  house,  and  we  both  like 
old  books,  so  we  enjoyed  that.  And  we  used  to 
read  the  Spectator,  and  many  old-fashioned  stories 
and  essays  and  sermons,  with  much  more  pleasure 
because  they  had  such  quaint  old  brown  leather 
bindings.  You  will  not  doubt  that  we  had  some 
cherished  volumes  of  poetry,  or  that  we  used  to 
read  them  aloud  to  each  other  when  we  sat  in  our 
favorite  corner  of  the  rocks  at  the  shore,  or  were 
in  the  pine  woods  of  an  afternoon. 

We  used  to  go  out  to  tea,  and  do  a  great  deal 
of  social  visiting,  which  was  very  pleasant.  Din 
ner-parties  were  not  in  fashion,  though  it  was  a 


LAST  DAYS  IN  DEEPHAVEN.  251 

great  attention  to  be  asked  to  spend  the  day,  which 
courtesy  we  used  to  delight  in  extending  to  our 
friends  ;  and  we  entertained  company  in  that  way 
often.  When  we  first  went  out  we  were  somewhat 
interesting  on  account  of  our  clothes,  which  were 
of  later  pattern  than  had  been  adopted  generally 
in  Deephaven.  We  used  to  take  great  pleasure  in 
arraying  ourselves  on  high  days  and  holidays,  since 
when  we  went  wandering  on  shore,  or  out  sailing 
or  rowing,  we  did  not  always  dress  as  befitted  our 
position  in  the  town.  Fish-scales  and  blackberry- 
briers  so  soon  disfigure  one's  clothes. 

We  became  in  the  course  of  time  learned  in  all 
manner  of  'longshore  lore,  and  even  profitably  em 
ployed  ourselves  one  morning  in  going  clam-dig 
ging  with  old  Ben  Horn,  a  most  fascinating  ancient 
mariner.  We  both  grew  so  well  and  brown  and 
strong,  and  Kate  and  I  did  not  get  tired  of  each 
other  at  all,  which  I  think  was  wonderful,  for  few 
friendships  would  bear  such  a  test.  We  were  to 
gether  always,  and  alone  together  a  great  deal ; 
and  we  became  wonderfully  well  acquainted.  We 
are  such  good  friends  that  we  often  were  silent 
for  a  long  time,  when  mere  acquaintances  would 
have  felt  compelled  to  talk  and  try  to  entertain 
each  other. 


252  DEEPHA  YEN. 

Before  we  left  the  leaves  had  fallen  off  all  the 
trees  except  the  oaks,  which  make  in  cold  weather 
one  of  the  dreariest  sounds  one  ever  hears  :  a 
shivering  rustle,  which  makes  one  pity  the  tree 
and  imagine  it  shelterless  and  forlorn.  The  sea 
had  looked  rough  and  cold  for  many  days,  and  the 
old  house  itself  had  grown  chilly,  —  all  the  world 
seemed  waiting  for  the  snow  to  come.  There  was 
nobody  loitering  on  the  wharves,  and  when  we 
went  down  the  street  we  walked  fast,  arm  in  arm, 
to  keep  warm.  The  houses  were  shut  up  as 
close  as  possible,  and  the  old  sailors  did  not 
seem  cheery  any  longer ;  they  looked  forlorn,  and 
it  was  not  a  pleasant  prospect  to  be  so  long 
weather-bound  in  port.  If  they  ventured  out, 
they  put  on  ancient  great-coats,  with  huge  flaps 
to  the  pockets  and  large  horn  buttons,  and  they 
looked  contemptuously  at  the  vane,  which  always 
pointed  to  the  north  or  east.  It  felt  like  winter, 
and  the  captains  rolled  more  than  ever  as  they 
walked,  as  if  they  were  on  deck  in  a  heavy  sea. 
The  rheumatism  claimed  many  victims,  and  there 
was  one  da}1,  it  must  be  confessed,  when  a  biting, 
icy  fog  was  blown  in-shore,  that  Kate  and  I  were 
willing  to  admit  that  we  could  be  as  comfortable  in 
town,  and  it  was  almost  time  for  sealskin  jackets. 


LAST  DAYS  IN  DEEPHAVEN.  253 

In  the  front  yards  we  saw  the  flower-beds  black 
with  frost,  except  a  few  brave  pansies  which  had 
kept  green  and  had  bloomed  under  the  tall  china- 
aster  stalks,  and  one  day  we  picked  some  of  these 
little  flowers  to  put  between  the  leaves  of  a  book 
and  take  away  with  us.  I  think  we  loved  Deep- 
haven  all  the  more  in  those  last  days,  with  a  bit 
of  compassion  in  our  tenderness  for  the  dear  old 
town  which  had  so  little  to  amuse  it.  So  long  a 
winter  was  coming,  but  we  thought  with  a  sigh 
how  pleasant  it  would  be  in  the  spring.  * 

You  would  have  smiled  at  the  treasures  we 
brought  away  with  us.  We  had  become  so  fond 
of  even  our  fishing-lines  ;  and  this  very  day  you 
may  see  in  Kate's  room  two  great  bunches 
of  Deephaven  cat-o'-nine-tails.  They  were  much 
in  our  way  on  the  journey  home,  but  we  clung 
affectionately  to  these  last  sheaves  of  our  har 
vest. 

The  morning  we  came  away  our  friends  were  all 
looking  out  from  door  or  window  to  see  us  go  by, 
and  after  we  had  passed  the  last  house  and  there 
was  no  need  to  smile  any  longer,  we  were  very 
dismal.  The  sun  was  shining  again  bright  and 
warm  as  if  the  Indian  summer  were  beginning,  and 
we  wished  that  it  had  been  a  rainy  day. 


254  DEEPHA  YEN. 

The  thcmght  of  Deephaven  -will  always  bring  to 
us  our  long  quiet  summer  days,  and  reading  aloud 
on  the  rocks  by  the  sea,  the  fresh  salt  air,  and 
the  glory  of  the  sunsets ;  the  wail  of  the  Sunday 
psalm-singing  at  church,  the  yellow  lichen  that 
grew  over  the  trees,  the  houses,  and  the  stone-walls ; 
our  boating  and  wanderings  ashore ;  our  impor 
tance  as  members  of  society,  and  how  kind  every 
one  was  to  us  both.  By  and  by  the  Deephaven 
warehouses  will  fall  and  be  used  for  firewood  by 
the  fisher-people,  and  the  wharves  will  be  worn 
away  by  the  tides.  The  few  old  gentlefolks  who 
still  linger  will  be  dead  then  ;  and  I  wonder  if 
some  day  Kate  Lancaster  and  I  will  go  down  to 
Deephaven  for  the  sake  of  old  times,  and  read  the 
epitaphs  in  the  bury  ing-ground,  look  out  to  sea, 
and  talk  quietly  about  the  girls  who  were  so  happy 
there  one  summer  long  before.  I  should  like  to 
walk  along  the  beach  at  sunset,  and  watch  the 
color  of  the  marshes  and  the  sea  change  as  the 
light  of  the  sky  goes  out.  It  would  make  the  old 
days  come  back  vividly.  We  should  see  the  roofs 
and  chimneys  of  the  village,  and  the  great  Chantrey 
elms  look  black  against  the  sky.  A  little  later  the 
marsh  fog  would  show  faintly  white,  and  we  should 
feel  it  deliciously  cold  and  wet  against  our  hands 


LAST  DAYS  IN  DEEPHAVEN. 


255 


and  faces ;  when  we  looked  up  there  would  be  a 
star;  the  crickets  would  chirp  loudly;  perhaps 
some  late  sea-birds  would  fly  inland.  Turning,  we 
should  see  the  lighthouse  lamp  shine  out  over  the 
water,  and  the  great  sea  would  move  and  speak  to 
us  lazily  in  its  idle,  high-tide  sleep. 


*  *. 


PU 


